For Unto us a Child is Born
Not wanting to show any disrespect to Thanksgiving, our family waited until Friday morning to “joyfully” carry dusty, overstuffed bins of questionable greenery and a formerly pre-lit Christmas tree (about which no one is bitter) from the basement to the family room. It wasn’t quite the same as Pa chopping down an evergreen and hoisting it over his shoulder for a snowy walk back to the little cabin in the woods, but by day’s end, Christmas merriment had exploded in our home.
In early evening, after the plastic bins were dragged back downstairs, I finally cozied up on the couch, my face aglow from the warm haze of my laptop. Not about to brave the Black Friday crowds in person, click by click my Christmas shopping was basically done. (Insert heartfelt poem about the glory of Amazon Prime).
“Christmas Vacation” silently played on the TV and I scrolled through a few Christmas-y Spotify playlists to brighten the air while dinner took shape. The duo nominated to hang the outdoor Christmas lights (requiring the 40-foot ladder) weren’t overly thrilled about their very special holiday task, so I tried to lessen the pain with food. Clark and Russ responded with glee.
By day’s end, even the dog proudly displayed her plaid Christmas collar.
Honestly, I went to bed ecstatic over the day’s accomplishments. The Checklist to Celebrating Christmas was more or less complete.
And yet, over the next few days, something unsettling nagged at my heart. My favorite morning ritual is to sit with God’s Word while it’s still dark and offer my heart and steps to Jesus for the day. This peaceful time is beautified every December by trees full of lights and memories, beautifully joining me in the stillness. A gentle, inaudible voice whispered to me as I gripped my coffee cup. “What about me?
Where do I come in your preparation? Do you even remember what all this is about?”
Now listen, I wanted to protest, I KNOW Jesus is the reason for the season. I’m not confused about why we’re doing all this decorating and shopping. I’m simply being efficient.
But in that moment, I realized I hadn’t given more than passing thought to Jesus himself.
The preparation of my home overshadowed the preparation of my heart.
Every year during advent, I ask God what glimpse of His character or aspect of this familiar Bible story He wants me to hold close. Having skipped that step in the rush to get ‘er done, I took a moment to ask and consider what God might have for me this season.
Immediately, my heart was drawn to images of Almighty God descending to earth wearing soft skin and a gummy smile.
A few days later, I found myself snuggling a friend’s infant baby boy. After his bottle, he slept peacefully in my arms and his details captivated my attention. I examined every feature: the tiny curled eyelashes, perfectly shaped miniature lips, fuzzy hair unsure of it’s color and cheeks destined for kissing. (He was also wearing a bowtie, as a teeny baby does.)
The fragility and helplessness that Jesus intentionally, humbly chose sank deep in my soul. The Savior that would later suffer and die a gruesome death entered the world exactly like this tiny boy in my arms. Jesus, with delicate eyelashes and tiny hands. Jesus, unable to feed himself or speak.
Overwhelmed with awe, my heart couldn’t make sense of such a collision of heaven and earth. It still can’t. But holding this sweet baby reminded me that this is not just a Bible story. Jesus, as a newborn, sent to miraculously bring hope and freedom to the world, was incredibly, touchably, real. He was held and cried and loved.
My heart re-oriented itself to preparation, to spending time this December in awe of Jesus. My eyes are fixed on noticing and gratefully responding to the Rescuer God sent packaged as a newborn.
Let every heart prepare Him room.
What will your heart preparation look like?
Have you intentionally made space to wonder with God what He might show you this Christmas season?
The angels said it best:
“I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David’s town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you’re to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger.”
Luke 2:11-12 (The Message)
~ Nicole Rowell