And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. —Luke 2:17-19
The sights and sounds of Christmas are stimulating to the senses. We often get swept away by the twinkling lights, the smell of fresh baked cookies, and the Christmas songs that have been ringing out since Thanksgiving. Although, if I hear that crazy holiday song one more time, “It’s a Marshmallow World” sung by Dean Martin, I’m going to choke on those marshmallows floating in my cocoa!
This year, after pulling out all of the stops to decorate my home, and hosting multiple, large events, I managed to maintain a sense of joy that I had not felt in many years. A nostalgic thread of memories, mostly from childhood, contributed to my unusual sense of peace.
Lofty goals tend to be a part of my nature. The bar of expectations I have set for myself is pretty high. While I repeatedly remind myself that all of what I am trying to accomplish is not the true meaning of Christmas, I simply cannot help myself. Every year it seems I approach the season promising myself that I am going to make it especially meaningful for my family. I don’t know about you, but each year I am waiting for that “aha moment” to synch it for me.
Today, just days before Christmas, my heart is not so light. Christmas is rapidly approaching and I am tired and a little overwhelmed with all that still have to do to pull off Christmas—let alone make it especially meaningful. I don’t want it to be just another holiday. I want this year to provide that memory of some magical moment for my kids and husband like that my childhood memories. I want to create an atmosphere that will forever be embedded in their mind’s eye.
Looking in the rearview mirror of life, Christmas seemed so sweet. Reality is a different story. My family is like every family—imperfect. We often laugh about all of the unnecessary drama that ensued, the major faux pas, or who acted badly during the holidays—there’s a long list. Sound familiar? That’s because we live in an imperfect world. Trying to create the perfect Christmas is not possible because there is only one perfect Christmas and it happened long ago in a manager.
Remembering the good (and not so much of the bad) is a good thing as long as we keep it in perspective. When I think of the birth of Jesus I tend to go back to that Christmas card image and envision a clear, starry night, with shepherds and their flocks of snowy white sheep, of three magnificently robed wisemen approaching from the distance, the smell of sweet haying the stable, the lowing of cattle, and a plump, rosy-cheeked baby beautifully wrapped and lying in a wooden cradle with his loving mother and father peacefully looking on.
In reality, the stable, if it even was a stable, was a last resort for the weary travelers. It was likely a room where the animals were kept on the bottom floor of a stone house. It was dusty, dark, dirty, and smelly. The little Lord Jesus was wrapped in cloth that was probably strips of rags. Jesus was not wrapped in silk or linen. It was years before the wisemen actually showed up.
Are You Paying Attention
Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul. —Psalm 143:8
The sights and sounds of this season are beautiful, even though we are bombarded by them from every direction. Its rarely quiet in our house. We have two teenage boys. Someone is always asking Alexa to play a favorite song, and this time of year its a Christmas song. My sons have earbuds for their smart phones and devices, and this is great because I don’t have to hear all of what they are listening to all of the time when they are plugged in. My oldest, Spencer, studies while listening to music—something I was never able to do. While I have gotten better at being able to read and retain amidst the busyness of children and background noises, I still need to have a single focus.
The problem with the earbuds or headphones is that my boys don’t hear me when I am speaking. Half the time they don’t know that I am speaking to them. There is a lot of mis-communication as a result. A great many assumptions are made when the airwaves are blocked. I personally don’t like to use headphones or earbuds in general. I feel as if I am missing something important around me.
And so it is with Christmas, with all of the sights and sounds, I wonder if we really hear what God is saying to us. Do we know that He is speaking to us? We are blinded by the twinkling lights, shiny gift wrap, and deafened by often beautiful, yet relentless music. It seems as if we are tuned to a different channel or frequency. Is this joy? Are we even listening? And most importantly, what are we thinking about… the long shopping list of presents, what to make for Christmas dinner? How are we going to squeeze in all of those visits, or what will I wear?
Why aren’t we thinking more about the manger?
Listening requires us to stop talking, a silencing not only our speech, but our mental chatter. We need to clear the airwaves and take the earbuds out, turn off the music, and listen. Perhaps it’s this time of year more than any other that we fail to hear God’s voice—His still small voice.
The mention of God’s still small voice occurs only once in all of Scripture (1 Kings 19:12), yet the impact is huge. After dramatic events, the Lord spoke to Elijah in a still small voice—a gentle whisper. The point is that God was showing Elijah that His work need not always be accomplished by dramatic events. Divine silence does not mean divine inactivity.
The sights and sounds of Christmas are truly wonderful, and there is nothing wrong with an idealized Christmas card nativity scene to ponder. It’s that special time of year to celebrate the birth of our Savior with friends and family. But we need to make sure we take time to tune out the visual and audible noise of the world. We must open our hearts, mind, and spirit, and listen. Do you hear what I hear? Can you hear His still small voice—God’s whisper? What is He saying to you this Christmas?
My “aha moment” hasn’t happened yet this year because I’m still swept away by all of the stimulus and activity. What is my heart expecting from Christmas this year? I expect God will tell me in His still small voice—if I only incline my ear to Him. As He showed Elijah, I have a feeling God will show me that what He is doing in and through me this Christmas is not in the dramatic events of the season, but in my heart.
But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. —Luke 2:19
