Every Christmas Eve, just before sending the children to bed, David & I gather them in the living room for THE Christmas Story. While David turns to the familiar passage in Luke chapter 2, I pull the well-loved nativity pieces from their box, figures which have played a part in this tradition for years. Sounds sweet, tender even, but the handful of family members who have witnessed this tradition know different.
Though I am sure this year will be different (cough, cough,) the cacophony typically begins as I fetch the nativity, and it does not bear messages of peace and good will. Instead, voices defend their rights to wield favored pieces. The manger and a cow, each leaning on their three remaining legs, along with the one-eared donkey reflect aggressive maneuvers of years gone by.
My smile becomes more forced as we mediate the delegation, then relaxes as our participants settle into their roles. David reads and measures his pace as pieces are moved to and fro. I attempt to focus on the account, yet silently brace myself for the sound effects certain to come from one in the circle and the ensuing corrections, which will flow from the others. Both are equally predictable.
As David's voice tightens and I contemplate the pros and cons of issuing admonishments of my own, God reminds me He Came For This. His Son, Jesus, came for selfishness, pride, and cacophony in our living rooms. He came for cacophony everywhere.
God is exposing the cacophony in my own heart this Christmas. I, too, have been wrestling for control over pieces. I, too, am disgruntled over not getting my way. I have been focused on moving to and fro and have forgotten He Came For This. He came for imperfection. He came for pain. He came for broken people in broken places.
2010 |
My smile becomes more forced as we mediate the delegation, then relaxes as our participants settle into their roles. David reads and measures his pace as pieces are moved to and fro. I attempt to focus on the account, yet silently brace myself for the sound effects certain to come from one in the circle and the ensuing corrections, which will flow from the others. Both are equally predictable.
As David's voice tightens and I contemplate the pros and cons of issuing admonishments of my own, God reminds me He Came For This. His Son, Jesus, came for selfishness, pride, and cacophony in our living rooms. He came for cacophony everywhere.
God is exposing the cacophony in my own heart this Christmas. I, too, have been wrestling for control over pieces. I, too, am disgruntled over not getting my way. I have been focused on moving to and fro and have forgotten He Came For This. He came for imperfection. He came for pain. He came for broken people in broken places.
She
will bear a Son, and you shall call His name Jesus [..., which means Savior],
for He will save His people from
their sins
[that is, prevent them from failing and missing the true end and scope of life, which is God].
Matthew 1:21 (AMP)