Back in the Real Times

My daughter received a play nativity set at church last night. When she got home, she wanted to put on a puppet show. We dutifully sat in our traditional spots while she got her belly down to the carpet and reached her hands up over the side of our coffee table. My husband narrated.

We heard all about King Herod, the Three Wise Men, lots of full Inns and a baby born in a barn. When the whole thing was over and the cheering had died down, the five-year old took her bow. She was headed back downstairs to get ready for bed but first we had to inspect her scenery. My husband told her he liked how she arranged the stars and put the big star right in the middle. She looked up at him and said “Well, that is where it was back in the real times”.

I love this. Our culture is full of reality TV, fantasy football, glitter and glam. We have ribbons and ruffles. We have Santa and presents and cookies and crowded parking lots. I love that my daughter in child like wisdom can recognize that the time that God decided to join humanity was the most real time.

Emmanuel. God with us. I love Christmas.

Where did he go?

My daughter and I used to spend a lot of time in the car.   Some of the time this was wonderful.  We’d sing songs, talk about our day, tell stories.  We had a little game we played called Miss Mouse.   When the little one in the backseat got tired of what we were talking about she’d loudly say “Knock Knock”.    I’d ask and she’d say it was Miss Mouse at the door.    We’d role play our way through tea parties and shopping trips.  We’d invite friends to come along.   Miss Birdy sometimes joined us.

Sometimes the long car rides were not so good.   More so at the end.   I was really really sick of driving.   She was sick of riding.   Miss Mouse was bored.

Living so far out of town, there were several routes home.   Our two most used paths we referred to as the Train Way and the Baby Jesus way.    The train way sometimes meant you got lucky enough to be stopped to watch a train go by.    The Baby Jesus way was so named because at Christmas time one of the neighbors on the 11 mile stretch that followed the river up stream had a Christmas light decoration that included a star,  Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus.      It was a nice way to finish the day.

This Christmas decoration is the only thing we miss about the drive.    About a week before Christmas, my daughter mentioned this in one of our SHORT drives home.   “Mom, I miss seeing the baby Jesus”.   I agreed.  We pulled into our neighborhood and there in the lawn next door was a full manger scene.   Shepherds, angels, sheep, Mary, Joseph and a Baby Jesus.

Wow.   He showed up.

Psalm 139: 7-10 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
⁸ If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
⁹ If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
¹⁰ even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.

On Christmas day, we drove back up river.   Our relatives still live next door to our old house.   My daughter stood on their deck and waved at the new owners.   The house looks great.    They are bravely battling the pine needles and the decks were clear.

Driving home that night we went the baby Jesus way.   Guess what.   The lights were gone.

Looks like Jesus went with us.  I think He has a way of doing that.   Where we go, He goes.   He’s a bit like Miss Mouse knocking at the front door.

Revelation 3:20 Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.

Joy and Mourning

The whole family took a drive today.   An hour south on the freeway to visit my aunt and uncle.  I walked into their house and grinned at all my aunt’s Christmas decorations.   My daughter was enthralled.   My aunt has stuffed Christmas animals everywhere.  They sing. They dance.   A couple of penguins twirl about.  There are two dogs that flap their ears in time to Jingle Bells.  There was glitter and ribbons and tinsel and presents.   My four-year old danced with the penguins and repeatedly pushed each button.  At several points there were competing songs going on in the menagerie.   Slightly loud but tons of fun.  I looked in my Grandmother’s old bedroom.   She died on New Years Day last year.   I promptly burst into tears.

Ever notice that Christmas is like an amplifier?   Everyone works hard to have a perfect time, but sometimes in the midst of joy, sorrow feels sharper.   The first Christmas was no different.   I can’t imagine that spending the night in a barn watching his fiance’ give birth was exactly what Joseph had in mind.   Mary was clearly in pain due to childbirth but also I imagine she was relieving some difficult conversations with friends and family about her baby.   Jesus was feeling His first moments away from the glory of heaven in a fragile and helpless position.  Painful.  Lonely.

and yet

There were angels and choirs and visitors and gifts and promises and hope.  Jesus, fully God and fully man, also knew even at that time what the end of the story was about.  Redemption, peace, great joy.

Our society doesn’t know how to deal with sadness very well.    Sometimes I think the best thing to do is accept it, have a good cry and get back to the party.   John Piper, in the book Taste and See talks about how to deal with times of commingle joy and sadness in a section called “The simultaneous sound of laughter and weeping”.    I loved this line;

My prayer for myself and all of you is that our weeping might be deep but not prolonged.  And while it lasts let us weep with those who weep.  And when joy comes in the morning let us rejoice with those who rejoice.

That first Christmas had to be overwhelming.   I think Mary had the right approach to the balance of grief and amazement.  The Bible says in Luke 2:19 that “Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart”.

Today, my family cried with me, gave me a big hug and then we opened presents.   My daughter got a new doll that giggles whenever she is moved.  We named her Pearl, my grandmother’s middle name.   The doll didn’t quit giggling.   Her young owner thought it was hilarious.   Pretty soon the whole table was joining in.  I was crying again but this time from laughing so hard.    It was a great day.   Lots to ponder.