The Christmas season is upon us, often meaning our joys and sorrows are increasingly magnified. If our lives are brimming with joy and loved ones near, well, the strings of bulb lights and wintery wreaths energize that happiness like cinnamon to steaming cider. But if we’re treading a path of loss or suffering or unmet longings, our pain is only increased by the continual reminder of what could be, or should be—A soul mate to call your own, a home of bustling children and grandchildren, vibrant health, full stockings and bank accounts, and chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
Longing for the Christmas Ideal
The Christmas ideal that accompanies our passage through December is a companion that reflects what we deeply hope to be our reality while exposing the parts of our lives that fall quite shy of the image it upholds. As a single woman with no children, Christmastime is both exceptionally sweet and a reminder of what is not. I will not be arm in arm with a husband through the malls, nor will I be buying my own children matching pajamas. I’ll be torn between deeply enjoying my parents and family in Virginia on Christmas day while simultaneously missing my community in Tennessee, the friends who make-up my daily life.
To be absolutely certain these are trifle voids compared to some of the unspeakable upheaval and tragedies some of the people I know are currently in the throes of. Regardless of how we’re walking through this Christmas season, every point at which life does not measure up to loved ones around crackling fires and picturesque table settings will be exposed.
So what do we do with a Christmas ideal that shows us what we all long to be true but is perpetually out of reach?
We do what Elizabeth did when Mary came to visit. We rejoice in our Savior instead of dwelling on who’s got it better or where our lives aren’t living up to our Christmas expectations.
A Tale of Two Relatives
Consider Elizabeth’s story leading up to the encounter with Mary who came to visit her newly pregnant with Jesus. Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah had pleaded with the Lord for children but with nothing but seeming silence in return. For a woman of Jewish culture to be barren was the ultimate social shame, a devastating loss of legacy and meaning in one’s society. After years of what Elizabeth would refer to as her “disgrace among the people”, the angel Gabriel visited her husband in the temple proclaiming that Elizabeth would soon become pregnant with a son. And while any son would have done just perfectly for Elizabeth, this child would be the forerunner of the Messiah. After all her suffering, Elizabeth would bring into the world one of the most important figures in Christendom.
Mere months before the very first Christmas, we find Elizabeth’s life shaping up more divinely than she could have ever imagined. Her disgrace has been removed, her womb is inhabited with child, her status in society has been exalted. Soon she will place in her husband’s arms what she’d always longed to give him but never could. Elizabeth, well along in years and having been faithful to the Lord through decades of unanswered prayer has finally reached her moment. The shaft of God’s favor is finally beaming down upon this most faithful and deserving woman.
Nothing like six short months for someone to threaten a Christmas ideal; Enter, teenage relative Mary.
In those days Mary set out and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judah where she entered Zechariah’s house and greeted Elizabeth. (Luke 1:39)
Essentially the only woman in all of space, time and history who could have possibly outdone Elizabeth, shown her up, beat her out, crashed her party, would have been Mary the mother of Jesus (of course this was not Mary’s heart or intent). At the peak of Elizabeth’s glory a much younger and arguably less deserving woman steps through the front door bearing a child greater than her own. And if we’re looking at all of this strictly from a human perspective, Elizabeth’s Christmas ideal fractures before Christmas has even come.
But Elizabeth was not caught up in comparisons or jealousy. Instead, Elizabeth stuns with her gracious response.
How could this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? (Luke 1:43.)
Her words reveal a secret we desperately need at this time of year: Elizabeth’s hope was not in an ideal but in a person, the person of Jesus Christ. When the blessed mother of her Lord entered her home, the farthest thoughts from Elizabeth’s mind were the ways in which her esteem, happiness or place in society would be threatened. All that mattered to her was the Lord, and because this was foremost true she could delight in Mary’s blessing as well.
Resist the Christmas Comparison Game
As I venture into this Christmas season I will be deeply disappointed if I compare myself to those whose lives are living up to the Christmas ideal in ways I wish were true of my own. I will ache unnecessarily if I set my hopes on Christmas-y images of magical settings that inspire a longing they are powerless to fulfill. If my focus is solely on the movies and malls and mulling spices, I will miss out on intimacy with my Savior, the only one able to commune with me in the deepest places of my heart. I will look to Him to do what only He can do in me, what no idealistic fantasy can.
As unmet longings and desires are awakened this season, I will spend quiet hours in God’s Word being reminded of the ways that the Desire of Nations meets our longings. When I feel alone, I will meditate on Immanuel, God with us. Like Elizabeth, I want to look beyond my own wants while delighting in and helping others in the context of Christ and community—that the mother of my Lord, should come unto me?
While I intend to hold nieces and nephews on the couch and watch Frosty and Rudolph, decorate a bang-up tree, make gingerbread houses, stroll leisurely through shops, sing with Amy Grant in the kitchen, splurge on Christmas-y cups of coffee, read by the fire, dine with friends at special gatherings, and perhaps let myself dream of the unlikely if not impossibly serendipitous love story through a Hallmark movie or two, my hope will not be in these trappings.
The Christmas ideal will not be mistaken for my Savior.
The Power Of A Meal
Okay, so this isn’t the savoriest looking grouping of food items, but I’m telling you, homemade chicken stock is pretty amazing once you strain everything out, leaving only the rich flavors distinct to herbs and spices like thyme, coriander, cumin, and parsley, along with vegetables such as carrots, onions and celery. And of course when you’ve got in your possession a whole chicken from Weldon of Emerald Farms (a regular at the Nashville Farmer’s Market), you have everything you need for a flavorful soup just pleading for mexican rice, fresh avocados and pico de gallo. Chips and salsa if you’re remotely human.
So this meal that begun with a spark of inspiration to warm myself on a damp and chilly Nashville Sunday turned into the center of a large gathering around my table that night after church. I had no intentions of having anyone over, especially as piles of clothes were creeping out of my luggage I had yet to unpack from the weekend, while stacks of mail and boxes of books towered in a couple corners (I tend to like clean – especially when people are coming over). But the soup! I had to have people over for the soup. And so several of my friends – some of whom I haven’t seen in such a long while – spontaneously swung by after the service. And when I say ‘swung’ I mean stayed for four hours talking about everything from Asian art to what authentic Christianity looks like, sans the religious trappings. We had compelling conversations about the poor, addiction, our own places of sin and selfishness. And we ate cookies… We had some of the most honest and refreshing conversations I’ve had in a long while, and though I am certain the soup will not be remembered, it was what got everyone there.
So I’m advocating having a meal at your house. And if you’ve got the time make it yourself, because there’s something about making selections at the grocery store or farmer’s market, washing, slicing, cutting, savoring the smells that is part of preparation. Preparation for who God will bring together around your creation and what He will do in the conversations. Fellowship, or sharing of faith, is the richest of blessings, “so that you will have a full understanding of every good thing we have in Christ.” (Philemon 1:6). So make a meal and invite some people over. Maybe even invite someone on the ‘fringe’ who might not often get an invitation, or someone you haven’t seen in a while. It’s as simple as throwing a whole chicken in a pot and asking some people over – and don’t let the piles or exposed laundry stop you. If you’ve got a big enough plate of cookies no one will remember you’re not perfectly imaculate anyway.
(click the title to leave a comment).
A Woman Inspired Online Today
Hey Everyone,
I’ll be speaking on the book of Ruth this morning online at 11:30 CST. You can go to https://www.awomaninspiredconference.org/ to check it out, along with several other speakers. Hope to catch you there.
Thoughts On Worship
I have loved leading worship in many environments over the past several years – it has become one of my favorite musical expressions. I think performing is an incredibly moving and impacting experience, but, for me, I found a level of comfort and excitement while leading people in corporate worship that I had rarely experienced in my previous performance settings. My hope is to continue writing and leading worship music for the rest of my life, even if it’s just me on the piano by myself one day. (Still have this dream of learning the piano – lessons coming soon…)
But as I think of worship – even beyond the musical element of it – I am intrigued by the use of the word ‘worship’ as found in the book of Exodus. When God appointed Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt He said a certain phrase over and over and over again, “Let my people go, so that they may worship me.” I’ve read through the journey of the Israelites’ mass exodus out of Egypt countless times, but never remember seeing the so-that part. God delivering His people from Egypt was all about worship. We might expect something more along the lines of “Let my people go, so that they can tithe more, or keep the rules more comprehensively, or go to church every Sunday, or feed the poor, or subscribe to Christian magazines… I don’t know, you can fill in the blank, but you get the point. God could have made freedom about anything, but He made it about worship. (Which, by the way, probably does entail some of the aforementioned things, but it all begins with worship). (Click the title to read on…)
Recipe Of The Month
A couple weekends ago I brunched at one of my favorite french cafés in Nashville. The chef was fresh out of her steel-cut oatmeal, leaving me to forage through the menu for more exotic fare. I ended up stepping way out on the wild side – what other options do you have when the oatmeal is gone? And ordered the Farrosotto. Next to the name in funky script were the listed ingredients: Mushrooms. I’d heard of them. Butternut squash, butter; check, check. But when I came across the word ‘farro’, I had to involve the waitress. She described it as an ancient grain that is similar to barley and spelt, yet has its own distinct rich and nutty flavor. It was calling out to me in a desperate little voice from the menu, Give me a chance! Give me a chance! And a well-deserving chance it got, hence, the following recipe: (please note this a different recipe from the restaurant’s, but great nonetheless. I made if for myself the other night. Would go amazing with salmon). Note: You can find farro at Whole Foods and online. Comment if you can find it at other brick and mortar stores. Click the title for the rest…
What I’m Reading and Loving
I don’t get to read as much as I’d like, and I can only imagine how true this is for people who have little ones to tend to from dawn to dusk, and then probably, still, from dusk to dawn. I got the slightest taste of this today when I took three of my favorite six children in all of Nashville over to my house for a fun snow day – even though there was no snow (from this winter on I shall start referring to them as “flake days” maybe). At any rate, I got no writing done. I got no reading done. How could I when there were shoes to tie and games of Hangman to play; when The Incredible Mr. Limpet was playing in my living room? I wouldn’t trade the day for anything, but if I had – absolutely had – to trade it for a day of reading, this is what I’d have in my hands…
First off, Mark Batterson’s new book Primal: Recovering The Lost Soul Of Christianity. I’m almost done and it is a must-read. (My dad is an amazing guy and has pastored for over 35 years and read more books than I can imagine; he puts Primal in his top five.) Here is why I love it as well: This book shows the reality of the Gospel, it doesn’t just talk about it or define it.
You can tell from Mark’s stories and humility that Jesus is making an enormous impact on him personally, in his multiple congregation locations in D.C. and across the world. I don’t know what your soul is longing for right now, but mine is desperate to see Jesus alive and active in my life and the lives of those around me. And, yes, I do see Him in many ways, but I’m always so encouraged and impassioned when I encounter first-hand, or read about, people who are experiencing him undeniably. Mark does not give us a hard to digest, how-to book. He brings us back to the basic, yet unfathomable, command of Jesus to love Him with our heart, soul, mind and strength. Have I sold you? (Click the title to keep reading…)