Reason #691
There are not enough hours in a day. Right now, there are too many work hours and too few evening hours. I don't know that that really ever changes, honestly. With cooking, cleaning, groceries, laundry, bill paying, and errand running, it's hard to get it all in. Of course, time is stretched even thinner right now. I had a full list of to-do's tonight, which I did not complete. I've almost quit caring about whether or not I actually accomplish my high ambitions that were set last month when time wasn't of the essence. I figure if it gets done, it gets done. If not, well, then it just don't get done.
I used to always wonder why my parents weren't just filled with incredible amounts of enthusiasm during the days before Christmas. I always wondered how in the world they were remaining so calm on Christmas Eve. How could they even sleep? Things far too exciting were happening to be sleeping. And I couldn't wait until Christmas morning. I couldn't wait to see what wonderful treasures Santa had brought us. It was the one morning I was more than happy to wake up early. So many good things were waiting. I could sleep at another time.
Now, I get it. Because by Christmas Eve you're so exhausted that not many gifts can top getting to sleep late on Christmas morning. Plus, there's just something different about receiving a gift that was bought with your own funds. It's not as exciting when you're paying it off for the next few months. But as a child, you aren't aware of any of those things. Because these gifts were given to you simply out of love. Gifts your little heart desired and anticipated for months. And after your rip open your packages and run off with the beloved gifts, your parents are there to pick up your boxes and tissue and haul it out to the dumpster.
As I tried my best to cram all of my Christmas shopping in during the first week of December, I told Aaron that I wouldn't be the least bit sad if we just did something for Christmas next year rather than buying gifts. After all, it's not like we hold off buying ourselves things through the year and wait until Christmas. We definitely don't deny ourselves, so Christmas is pretty much just abundance. And, like most of America, we spend our time shopping to buy even more stuff at the after-Christmas sales. And so this is Christmas for most of us. An abundance of wants in the midst of absolute chaos. The season slips away because our time is crammed full of parties, special events, shopping and decorating. The next thing we know, it's all over and we're glad that we have 11 months to recuperate.
I thought about the first Christmas. The night Jesus came. A silent night, according to the song. Really, there wasn't a whole lot going on. In fact, there were only a few people even present. No hustle and bustle. No one throwing last minute gifts into reusable gift bags while scouring the house for some tissue paper. No long lines at the store, waiting to check out with an overloaded basket. Mary wasn't cleaning her place like a mad woman as she was preparing to host her friends and family for an exciting evening of food, games, and fun. No, it was a quiet night in a little stable. The Savior was born. A dirty stable, with smelly animals and pokey hay, but that's where He chose to enter into. Into the normal, not the prestige. With humility, not with possessions. Bringing peace and comfort, not stress and anxiety. Simple, easy, calm. No fancy production, no planned out fan fare. Jesus came on a silent night. Holiness entered into this world not so that we could have an abundance of things but so that we could have abundant life. He came not so that we would run ourselves ragged trying to keep up with the Jones' but so that we could find rest for our weary souls. A little baby, God wrapped in flesh, came for us so that we could live in hope at the foot of the manger rather than with empty boxes underneath the tree.
“I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.” - Luke 2:10-12
I used to always wonder why my parents weren't just filled with incredible amounts of enthusiasm during the days before Christmas. I always wondered how in the world they were remaining so calm on Christmas Eve. How could they even sleep? Things far too exciting were happening to be sleeping. And I couldn't wait until Christmas morning. I couldn't wait to see what wonderful treasures Santa had brought us. It was the one morning I was more than happy to wake up early. So many good things were waiting. I could sleep at another time.
Now, I get it. Because by Christmas Eve you're so exhausted that not many gifts can top getting to sleep late on Christmas morning. Plus, there's just something different about receiving a gift that was bought with your own funds. It's not as exciting when you're paying it off for the next few months. But as a child, you aren't aware of any of those things. Because these gifts were given to you simply out of love. Gifts your little heart desired and anticipated for months. And after your rip open your packages and run off with the beloved gifts, your parents are there to pick up your boxes and tissue and haul it out to the dumpster.
As I tried my best to cram all of my Christmas shopping in during the first week of December, I told Aaron that I wouldn't be the least bit sad if we just did something for Christmas next year rather than buying gifts. After all, it's not like we hold off buying ourselves things through the year and wait until Christmas. We definitely don't deny ourselves, so Christmas is pretty much just abundance. And, like most of America, we spend our time shopping to buy even more stuff at the after-Christmas sales. And so this is Christmas for most of us. An abundance of wants in the midst of absolute chaos. The season slips away because our time is crammed full of parties, special events, shopping and decorating. The next thing we know, it's all over and we're glad that we have 11 months to recuperate.
I thought about the first Christmas. The night Jesus came. A silent night, according to the song. Really, there wasn't a whole lot going on. In fact, there were only a few people even present. No hustle and bustle. No one throwing last minute gifts into reusable gift bags while scouring the house for some tissue paper. No long lines at the store, waiting to check out with an overloaded basket. Mary wasn't cleaning her place like a mad woman as she was preparing to host her friends and family for an exciting evening of food, games, and fun. No, it was a quiet night in a little stable. The Savior was born. A dirty stable, with smelly animals and pokey hay, but that's where He chose to enter into. Into the normal, not the prestige. With humility, not with possessions. Bringing peace and comfort, not stress and anxiety. Simple, easy, calm. No fancy production, no planned out fan fare. Jesus came on a silent night. Holiness entered into this world not so that we could have an abundance of things but so that we could have abundant life. He came not so that we would run ourselves ragged trying to keep up with the Jones' but so that we could find rest for our weary souls. A little baby, God wrapped in flesh, came for us so that we could live in hope at the foot of the manger rather than with empty boxes underneath the tree.
Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
Round yon virgin
Mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in Heavenly peace
Sleep in Heavenly peace
#691 - Because He came to give us the things we can't buy for ourselves.
“I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.” - Luke 2:10-12
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