You can hear it so many times that it excites you about as much as the side of a cereal box. Maybe less. Especially if you’ve grown up with it all—those carols and those words. Sunday school, church, Awana, VBS.
Again, and again you hear about the baby born. His miracles. The cross. Until you stop hearing at all. Or maybe you hear, but you’ve lost the wonder. The awe. The faith.
Maybe you’ve done better than I at keeping sight of “the real meaning of Christmas.”
Then again, maybe not.
Maybe, like me, you really wanted to show your children the real miracle that Christmas celebrates, but with all your Pinterest surfing, food list making, and out-of-town-company preparing, you forgot.
For me this holiday season, the truth has crept in gradually, like the slow approach of a faintly burning light in the dark.
This year has been so difficult, and I’ve felt stretched in so many ways…
Spent the first two months out of the country in Scotland for the birth of Little Bear (our fourth boy and last child; a lump to swallow by itself), and then had to transition to life back in the States. Battled fatigue as I’ve been woken by baby every night for the past twelve months. Struggled to balance my role as wife, mother to four rambunctious boys, writer, cook, organizer of too much stuff, chauffer, friend, and homeschooling mum. Took in a friend’s daughter for the summer. Opened our home to friends—a family of six—for seven weeks while they sought out a new home. Made do with chaos while we put on a small extension to our home. Helped more than one person move house. Pounded at Heaven’s doors for the souls of those yet lost.
And in one way I feel shattered by it all. Bedraggled. Weary both body and soul.
In another, the shadowy places we’ve trudged through in the past few years have only made the greatest gift—the one believers in Christ Jesus claim to celebrate at Christmas—shine like never before.
For his gift—the gift of eternal life through belief in the life, death, and resurrection of God’s only begotten Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, who is Himself God—is one that can neither be lost, stolen, damaged, outgrown, or in any way taken away. Such a gift!
This is the gift I will be sharing with my children and other family members on Christmas, and there is a very simple way you can do it, too, with items you most likely already have in your house.
Wrap up five items in Christmas paper – something broken (a toy?), something outgrown (baby clothes?), an empty wallet or purse, and a figurine of baby Jesus (or picture of the cross), and a heart (a Christmas ornament?).
Gather your family round and let them open the parcels one by one, explaining the meaning of each as you go along, using the suggestions below . . .
For the broken item – Is this toy new or old? Have you ever had anything break? Things don’t last forever, do they? They can stop working or break.
For the outgrown item – Would this fit anyone in the room? Clothes don’t last forever, do they? We can outgrow our clothes, or they can get holes in them and wear out.
For the wallet – Look inside the pockets. What has happened to the money? Has it been stolen? Spent? Lost? Money doesn’t last forever, does it? It can be spent, stolen, or lost.
For the Baby Jesus – Who does this figurine represent? Did he stay a baby or grow up to be a man? Yes, he grew up to be a man and died on the cross to take the punishment for our sins.
For the heart – What is this? Yes, a heart that represents the love of God. If you believe in your heart that God died on the cross for your sins and that he was raised again back to life, then God gives you the gift of eternal life to be with him and others who loves him forever. No one can take that gift away from you. It is the only thing that can never be lost, stolen, broken, or taken away from you by anyone.
We arrived late morning, just in time to see the tail end of the die-hard Black Friday shoppers toss another piece of plastic in their over-laden carts before struggling to maneuver them to the check-out.
I couldn’t help but wonder,
did they even like that stuff?
Did they need it?
Or had they been tricked?
But I was there, too, of course.
I was there, or I wouldn’t have seen it.
I was there, and armed with the page from the paper that showed the great deal on the bathroom set I was after. Bathrobe hook, hand towel loop, toilet paper holder, plus a few more.
And wasn’t I excited to keep the hand towel off the floor, where the children always leave it, and keep the toilet paper roll out of the toilet (or so I hoped).
But of course those items were just one of many on the long, long mental list of things I’d like for the house.
And of course once we’d stopped at the mall to let the children burn off some energy at the play area, and I took a stroll past H&M, I began think about my other list. The list of things I’d like for my wardrobe.
It’s intoxicating, you know, the mall is.
Every sense assaulted from every side.
Starbucks coffee, cinnamon rolls, perfume drifting from the department stores. The feel of silk, and faux fur, and leather. Nat King Cole crooning, and the Salvation Army bell jingling. The displays of clothes and furniture all looking so perfect, so much better than anything we have at home.
Couldn’t a person just get lost in it?
Caught up in the frenzy of buying
and trying
to fill the hole inside.
And while I went home looking forward to the giving
of the few gifts I picked up,
I also went home aching,
asking,
feeling anything but PEACE.
Because I know, though I never quite believe it,
that I am blessed beyond measure,
and that the more I have, the more I will want.
And though I tell it to my children,
what Christmas is all about,
and though we’re finding more ways of giving,
more ways of loving this year,
I find it’s still easy
to miss the point.
To miss the heart.
To miss PEACE.
I love the Christmas season.
Love it more each year.
Love the baking,
and the making
of sugar cookies,
paper snowflakes,
a wreath for the door.
Love candles glowing bright,
and singing Silent Night.
Love spotting a red cardinal
perched on a branch of lacy snow.
Or holly berries, and their leaves of thorns.
But what I needed on that day,
and what I need on this,
and what I desperately want my children to see,
is that the point of Christmas,
the heart of it all,
is found in His heart.
In the heart of Jesus,
and His love for us.
In His love we can let go of all the trappings,
all our unwritten lists,
all that haunts us in the wee hours of the night,
and we can simply rest.
Cling to Him, and be at peace.
“For He Himself is our peace.”
~Ephesians 2:14
As you light your second Advent candle this Sunday, remember the PEACE we have through Jesus. Hear Him whisper, “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid.”
Avonlea xo
Happy Little Sigh
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“The Holly and the Ivy,” King’s College Choir, Cambridge University, England
happy little sigh 