Good morning…
“Every year since we’ve been married, we’ve traveled to see our families,” she said over the phone yesterday. “Today is the day we always leave, we head up north, we go to my parent’s home to gather with all the aunts, uncles, and cousins. Then we spend time with my husband’s family. For the first time, we are not heading up there at all. My dad has no immune system and, with the coronavirus, it’s just too risky. I just feel really sad to miss time together.”
She went on to explain that instead of traveling they began to decorate. Their college-aged son brought his girlfriend home, and, as a mom of three boys, my friend welcomed a playful partner in the decorating department. She delegated to her a task, “Here is the nativity,” she said. “Set it up however you want.”
This young woman did not live in a home where they went to church or celebrate the birth of the Christ child, so she had no preconceived notion of how the nativity was supposed to look. My friend was fascinated when she returned to the living room to see this young creative woman clearing the entire bookshelf and, on separate shelves, making three shrines with the nativity figures.
The bottom level was the wise men, the rich, the well dressed kings bearing gifts.
The next shelf up was filled with a whole cast of characters. Children. Dancers. Carolers. An angel. A drummer boy. A flute player. Several shepherds. Tons of sheep. She had set up the whole village participating together. My friend said, “It looked like a massive shepherds’ party! Everyone in town was invited to the shepherd’s party.”
Above the crowd, on the top shelf, she placed the baby Jesus, his parents, and a few fortunate animals. Private. Quiet. Serene.
Seeing the image gave words to my friend’s sadness. “Every year of my life Christmas has been a bunch of people, noise, chaos. Really, we’ve held our own type of shepherds’ party. I love it. I really love it. We are all together. The crazy tradition is somehow really restorative to me.”
“But this year will be like the top scene,” she went on to explain. “Private. Quiet. Serene. I know that neither of these scenes is a wrong way to celebrate the Lord of my life. One’s not better. One’s not worse. I just realize this year is a real change. The shift for me is going to be really challenging. It just makes me really sad to let go of what Christmas always has been.”
I was struck by her higher level of honest awareness. This Christmas, for many of us, may be about staying home, foregoing old traveling traditions, and missing out on our own beloved forms of “the shepherds’ party.” Experiencing the sadness, dying to what has been, might we rise up into a new intimacy with our newborn living Lord?
Gaining hope, I remember and wait for this thought:
How enduring is God’s loyal love; the Eternal has inexhaustible compassion. Here they are, every morning, new! Your faithfulness, God, is as broad as the day. Have courage, for the Eternal is all that I will need. My soul boasts, “Hope in God; just wait.”
It is good. The Eternal One is good to those who expect Him, to those who seek Him wholeheartedly. It is good to wait quietly for the Eternal to make things right again (Lamentations 3:21-26, VOICE).
…Sue…
