Christmas

Five Minute Friday: Simple

/ Heather Davis Nelson / Leave a comment
  • I return today to this weekly writing practice of Five Minute Friday: Five minutes on a weekly prompt, no editing, just free-flowing words and stream-of-consciousness. And a supportive writing community hosted by Kate Motaung – head over to fiveminutefriday.com to learn more.

Simple: it’s what I find myself longing for even more this time of year, and even more so this particular year than before. As life has returned to “the new normal” after the pandemic, I feel like I wasn’t ready for the rush of Christmas to begin. The last few years we’ve had a collective forced simplification of the holidays. I’m thinking of Thanksgiving meals eaten outdoors, Christmas gatherings limited due to illness and caution about preventing illness, and just an across-the-board less full calendar.

Enter 2022 and I’ve felt like life is roaring back to the pre-pandemic level of activity and busyness and – yes – stress that can accompany all of the joyful holiday activities.

Last year, Advent was intentionally more simple in our home. A friend had asked me “what aren’t you going to do for Advent?” and that guided me into intentional simplification.

This year, I forgot to make space for simple. So in the interest of sticking to my five-minute limit, and my desire to be honest even (especially?) while “in process” – I’m ending here with a few questions for you:

What are you doing to choose “simple” for your Advent season?

Or, perhaps, what aren’t you doing so that you make space for simple to find its quiet way back to the place where we reflect in hushed wonder at the newborn babe sent to save the world?

Gifts, Consumerism, & Advent: Christmas 2021

/ Heather Davis Nelson / 2 Comments

An exasperated mom who was tired of hearing the incessant “asks” for more and last-minute Christmas list additions sternly warned her tween-aged kids: “No more asking for anything until after Christmas.” And then she became quite convicted, realizing that what she is trying to teach her children is what her own heart struggles with the most.

I rush, and I rush, and I rush, to get the perfect gift for all the people. The family I love and the teachers who’ve poured so much into our family, and maybe we should get a little something for our mail carrier too? I find that my list grows longer the further into December we get, not only the list of gift items that my kids say they “Really Really REALLY” want this year, but also the list of those I’m buying gifts for, and, if I’m honest, the gifts that I hope to be given, too.

There’s something beautiful about the gift-giving at Christmas. I was talking to my daughters (who, to their credit, have been reigning in their “I wants” since the mini-lecture I gave them) about the best gift that they’ve ever received. One of them piped up, “It’s Jesus, of course!” It is because the world received The Best Gift we could ever have, and The Only Gift we ever needed, and The Gift we could never afford or earn or attain, that we celebrate the season of Christ’s coming through gift-giving.

But when does all the gift-giving, and the accompanying gift-buying, become a thinly veiled excuse for more, more, more that consumes me in the way consumerism always does? In consuming things I become a magnet for all the marketing, the Cyber Monday, and the Black Friday, and the last-minute-free-shipping, and the Kohl’s cash, and all.the.things. I become obsessive about finding the right gift, or the best gift, or the most thoughtful gift, and I can make all the gift-giving all about me.

Advent stops me in my tracks. True Advent, which is a liturgical season set aside in the church calendar specifically to prepare our hearts in anticipation of the celebration of the feast of Christmas, is something that so easily passes me by. But God is gracious, and I found a book that’s helped our family re-focus, because it’s helping me focus on the waiting and the longing that God’s people experienced for centuries between the Garden and the Manger. This anticipation and hope is parallel to us who live after the time of Christ’s birth, life, death, and resurrection, and before He returns to restore all things in glory. It’s the theological concept of “already and not yet” – the looking back and remembering what God’s already done in redemptive history, and the present-day reality that we don’t yet experience the world as fully redeemed. Scripture is woven through the pages of this devotional, called Shadow and Light by Tsh Oxenreider: a short daily reading, a contemplative question, a song to listen to and art to reflect on. God is using this book to remind me to REST. To BE.

And God also used a dear friend’s good question in early December, “What can you take off your plate?” She was addressing a group of us on a Marco Polo … and how it struck me as I was in the very middle of a very busy – and fun! – weekend where I was racing from one event and to-do item to the next. I didn’t have an immediate answer, but it was the kind of question that stayed with me, the Spirit bringing it to mind at various points as I evaluated my days and my lists. I began asking, “What don’t I need to do/buy/attend?”

I don’t know what that answer is for you. It won’t be the same as it is for me, but it’s worth asking.

Instead of chasing the answer to, “What more do I need to do or buy to be ready for Christmas?”, I’m seeking to consider what I don’t need to do or buy so that I can be more peacefully present with the family, friends, and church community I’ll gather with in these next days.

-Heather Nelson / hidden glory / heatherdavisnelson.com

for the grieving at Christmas

/ Heather Davis Nelson / Leave a comment

I still remember the empty ache the first Christmas we spent without my grandpa, “Papa,” we called him. His recliner stood in the corner like a memorial. Laughter felt forced. I kept waiting for him to appear in all of his jovial grandfatherly-Father-Christmas fun. He loved to wear his new clothes with the tags still on them, as a way of being silly and funny. He would read the story of Christ’s birth from Luke’s account in his booming, Southern Baptist voice. He had a larger-than-life personality, yet a down-to-earth way about him. I learned only after his death how well known of a politician he had been. For me, he was always a grandfather who paid attention; who loved me; who was the life and heart of every gathering. And his absence was glaring that first Christmas after his death.

It’s been over 25 years, and I can still grow sentimental and sad to think of Christmas “before” and Christmas “after.”

I think about others I’ve lost since then, and there is always that grief that gives Christmas a blue tinge, as Elvis crooned so well. Like Beverlee, who hosted grand holiday parties with her beloved Collier for church members and neighbors in their suburban Philadelphia home. And childhood friend and next-door neighbor, Kristen, who died long before we had the chance to have joy-filled Christmas holiday reunions like we’d always thought we would. I remember close friends and family members who are grieving afresh this Christmas – a sister who died, a father who passed away, a mom whose death came too soon, miscarriages and lost hopes and loves.

And in the grief – both mine and the grief I feel with friends – I can find myself fearful of who may not be around the table next year. That grief steals the joy of the present. Yet Christmas and grief can co-exist, can’t they?

For you, and for me, who are the grieving at Christmas … I write to say you aren’t alone. I write to remind myself that I’m not alone either. Sadness is part of living. But I write to say that I don’t want it to take the joy of Life away this Christmas. I write to say that grief can be deeply comforted by the Truth of Christmas: Emmanuel, God with us. I don’t mean this to be trite … it is a truth I am fighting for every day in my own heart. Take comfort in the words of this melancholy, yet hopeful hymn:

{photo credit: little things studio}

the Christmas of unexpected Joy

/ Heather Davis Nelson / 5 Comments

For a long time, 2015 will be remembered as the Christmas when we were barely hanging on, and the Advent of finding joy in unexpected places. I told my physician-brother a few months ago that if there were a clinical diagnosis for “too busy,” Seth and I would have met the criteria for it several months ago. It is just too easy for two over-achievers to keep doing and forget to rest, relax, and take a break. To focus on who really matters: God, each other, our daughters, and the family and friends we love dearly. And I guess I should speak for myself – Seth does a way better job of this taking a break than I do. My counseling heart and artistic impulse are gifts … but they have the dark side of my tendency to say “yes” to more people and projects than I can adequately follow through.

This fall has been the process of me taking a giant step back – a step out of leading our small group, teaching women’s Bible study, over-scheduling with extra-familial commitments and appointments, and a step back that culminated in a decision to take a sabbatical from my counseling practice starting January 1, 2016. There are many reasons for this particular timing – two of them being:

(1) My pastor-husband will be graciously receiving the gift of a sabbatical from our church from February through April (an every 7-years-rhythm they’ve established for the pastors) – and I want to join him for that.

(2) My first book is being released in June, and I needed/wanted space to devote to this venture.

In the stepping back, there is much that I already miss – chiefly among them, the courageous women and men I’ve had the privilege of sitting with and walking together through stories of love, loss, and hope despite the darkest of backgrounds. (I do find myself already counting down the months until I will reengage with this calling again!)

Yet this is the beauty of God’s gifts of realizing our limitations: the limitations form the boundaries of our truest calling.

Until I said no to over-scheduling, I couldn’t have known the joy of just being … of writing … of enjoying the gift of a quiet home the mornings our daughters are at preschool … of being present for their many unscheduled moments (highs & lows) that happen when I’m here to notice them. I couldn’t have known the frustrations that push me deeper into faith in a God who sees – the frustrations that come when I see how poorly I love my family for whom I profess undying love (and when I experience their imperfect love towards me, too).

And herein lies the beauty of this Christmas-Advent season: in slowing down (being forced to, might I add, due to a litany of never-ending illnesses), Joy still came. Despite what felt like barely hanging on in terms of health and the fullness of our days and the way we typically celebrate Christmas (lots of parties both hosted and attended, etc.) – Joy came in being still and quiet enough to notice The Greatest Gift, Jesus. Jesus ushered in the best gifts of this season:

  • grace given and received in the midst of fraying emotions and harried tasks
  • a beautiful painting by a dear friend
  • a necklace for this season, reminding me to “be still and know”
  • a bracelet from my beloved, and all the love that is patient that it represents
  • words to speak to you and to God – expressing my heart and inviting us deeper still into the mystery that is Jesus
  • many hot cups of tea sipped while editing the manuscript of a book I need more than anyone else possibly could
  • gifts from neighbors for us and our girls – and the gift of having great neighbors!
  • family and friends who continue to love us through our imperfect moments and to lavish us with their time, attention, and generosity

For all of these gifts … for the Greatest Gift to match my deepest need … all I can say is what’s been sung for generations (reminding you and me that “faithful” is not what we are in our own efforts, but what Jesus calls us who cling to him by faith):

o come all ye faithful

order your print from Etsy here

the glittering mess of Advent

/ Heather Davis Nelson / 2 Comments

Every December, it surprises me. Meaning, the juxtaposition of “the most wonderful time of the year” with the reality of how far I am from being able to fully embrace the joy proclaimed to me in every Christmas song and story and glittering decoration. I know I’m not alone in this. For I  hear your stories – maybe not yours specifically, but in sitting with multiple stories of suffering and disappointment and hope deferred throughout almost a decade of counseling and a few decades more of friendship and family relationships, I have a fairly good sense of the ways life breaks us.

And for some reason, I find myself each Advent/Christmas season battling to find the hope that surrounds me like no other time of year. I struggle because at the deepest part of who I am, I know that Jesus’ coming as a baby changed everything for the better (while I also see so much that doesn’t fit with a redeemed world). I find deep comfort that his incarnation – God with us – was a literal game-changer for the human race. That Jesus was “born to set Thy people free/from our sins and fears release us/let us find our rest in Thee.” That I am to “fall on [my] knees/O hear, the angels voices/O night divine/O night when Christ was born.” And I crumble inside with the best of you at the emotion of it all – of God being made like us, like a tiny baby, utterly vulnerable to the ones he created.

But then I begin to get angry and sad. For if Jesus was born to set His people free, why on earth are we so chained up to others’ expectations and our own inward voices of shame? And why do we Christians hurt  each other in the church when we are all simply trying to love one another the best we know how? Why do “Christian” politicians infuriate the culture-at-large with offers to pray in the wake of tragedy and apparently no (or minimal) actions behind these prayers?  Why do news headlines daily proclaim a new form of terror?

And to bring it home and make it more personal: why do I have friends still struggling with infertility?

Friends grieving parents taken too soon?

Friends who have suffered unspeakable tragedies of abuse when they were children who could not protect themselves?

Why are friends stuck in marriages that feel lifeless? (Or why are there friends who are newly divorced despite months/years of trying to reconcile?)

Why does cancer still strike in the most unexpected of ways and times to friends in the prime of their life/ministry?

And if I dare to be courageously honest, I have a few questions of my own. Like how did I get to be so battle-weary and exhausted when I thought I was fighting for the gospel of justice, truth, beauty, and light in the name of Jesus, in the strength of his grace, and for the sake of his glory?

Why does every recent December feel depressing, as a time when I am more likely to feel the weight of the world’s sorrows instead of the hope of the Savior’s joy?

Why does Christmas seem to come up short from how I remember it as a child?

I am beginning to realize anew that the only answer to these weighty, angst-filled questions is in trying to hold in my feeble hands the glittering mess of Advent.

It’s not unlike the abundant blue glitter that one of my 5-year-old daughters sprinkled with abandon around her room earlier this week. There was literally a path of blue sparkle that looked like a rug placed on our white (!) carpet. A glittering path that led to their mini-Christmas tree. As I vacuumed it up, I surprised myself by beginning to laugh instead of growing more angry and frustrated. I laughed because it was beautiful. Any of you who have ever had the *privilege* of vacuuming up large quantities of glitter know exactly what I’m talking about. It glitters and sparkles and changes in the light, and as I vacuumed clean white paths through the blue, the vacuum cleaner began to sparkle, too. (Because it has a see-through compartment.)

And that’s when it came to me.

This is a metaphor for Advent’s tension between the beauty that will be (which began to break through in the incarnational mystery of Jesus) and the mess that we continue to make with this beauty.

These broken places of grief, betrayal, loss, and deferred hope – they are real and they are tragic in an exponentially greater way than a 5-year-old glitter tantrum (oh – did I leave that part out? The reason that she created such a display was out of anger that she was in time out – it was a mess intended to annoy me.).

But this I cling to – in hope against hope – that the mess twinkles, sparkles, glitters in the light of the Christmas tree. The Christmas tree that became our salvation as it became a cross. This tragedy of the tiny babe grown up and offered up willingly as the most tragic of sacrifices for the most unworthy of offenders. You and me.

Ann Voskamp says it well in her Advent devotional:

The Cross stands as the epitome of evil. And God takes the greatest evil ever known to humanity and turns it into the greatest Gift you have ever known. … If God can transfigure the greatest evil into the greatest Gift, then He intends to turn whatever you’re experiencing now into a gift. You cannot be undone. Somewhere, Advent can storm and howl. And the world robed for Christmas can spin on. You, there on the edge, whispering it, defiant through the torn places: “All is grace.”

 

 

because Christmas is about giving (an opportunity)

/ Heather Davis Nelson / 2 Comments

I am still working on how to convince my 5-year-old twin daughters that Christmas is about giving not getting. Perhaps because I, too, have a hard time really sinking into the reality that it is more blessed to give than receive. I, like them, love (and prefer) what’s shiny and new. My “toys” are more “sophisticated” – and expensive – than theirs, but I, too, have a bent towards thinking first about what I want to get instead of what I want to receive.

And so I would like to turn our eyes toward the meaning behind the songs and the shiny decorations and the twinkling magical lights – and I want to do so by also giving you an opportunity to put it into action.

Allow me to introduce my friend “Sara” to you (pseudonym used to protect the sensitive nature of her work). Sara is preparing to embark on one of the bravest adventures I’ve ever known, an adventure and a battle against one of the worst present-day places of evil, darkness, and injustice in our world: human trafficking. I’ll let her tell you in her own words:

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HT pic2

Called to Battle

Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers and authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Ephesians 6:12

The Battlefield

Everything you might imagine about a South Asian city is true of K. Noisy all hours day and night, chaotic traffic, decaying colonial architecture, smells ranging from urine, curry, body odor, jasmine and cinnamon- this city has it all. What you might not know about K. is it is also the exact opposite of all of those things. K. is a place of laugher and bright white smiles, vibrantly colored saris, pastel painted walls and doors.

Surprisingly, amid all the audible and visual noise there are small elements of calm. One of my favorite things is to see the city wake up for the day. Older men sit near the corner chai stand and read the paper, gossip and watch the city come to life. Other men and youth bathe in the communal taps that seem to be on every street and always running. Store keepers sweep the filthy sidewalk in front of their stands, a seemingly unending and unfruitful task.

The Fight

South Asia is also an area of darkness- oppressive heavy darkness. Darkness that can be felt and where evil lurks under its cover. In K. there is an area known as S-chi. It is no wider than a few city blocks wide and not many more long.

This small area is one of the world’s largest red light districts. A staggering 10,000 women work here daily.

HT pic 1

 

Some have been trafficked across this country, or from other countries. Others have been tricked by husbands or family members. Still others saw no possible means for providing for their family so they chose to join the forces. Each has a unique story. Their stories might differ in details, but common threads are woven throughout. These women have been led to believe they have no voice, no worth, no value, and no hope. Their only worth comes from what they can sell to others; their body. All have been fed lies about who they are and what they have been created for. Dignity and freedom has been stripped away, things we take for granted.

These are lies the Evil One has led the ladies, their culture, and largely the world, to believe. Their reality is a heartbreaking confrontation with Evil. Our battle is not against the rulers and authorities, but against the dark powers of this world. We are all called to fight against the darkness and bring light to the world.

We have a God of hope and freedom in the midst of this darkness. We are called to bring this hope and freedom to others that haven’t yet seen or experienced with their own eyes.

 

The Battle Plan

In K the team has started a Western Style Bakery.Through the bakery they are able to offer alternate means of employment and tangible glimpses of hope out of unimaginable circumstances.

The goal is to provide life skills, job training, empowerment, confidence, dignity, worth and freedom to women who have never dared to imagine these things for themselves.

We are there to help them dream and claim the promises God has for them!

How can we expect to see justice in this situation? The scale of need is so great, where to begin? One woman at a time. One fumbling Bengali conversation after another until something clicks and there is a personal connection. One western smile meets an Asian smile. One exchange haggling over a market purchase. One life, one story, at a time. This work hinges on relationships. It begins and ends there. One life that is changed is a life changed! From there change is contagious, the lives of the immediate family change, then the extended family, then a village. God is mighty to move nations, and he uses individuals to do so.

My role on the team will be social justice coordinator. I will have a foot in the bakery, walking alongside ladies transitioning out of the demands of the district and into life as a baker. My other foot will be firmly planted in the district looking for opportunities to talk to ladies, getting to know them -learning their stories and stories of their culture, and sharing life.

The Army

Encouragers: I need to be reminded of the gospel and of God’s promises. It is as much for me as it is for the women that don’t yet know Him.

Physical: My target departure date is March 2016. I have to have pledged $4600/ month of financial support to get to the field, and one-time gifts of $40,000. I have only $26,000 left in one-time gifts.

[Heather’s note: Whatever you are able/can give will make a big difference in this balance of $26,000. For example, if each of you, my faithful readers, gave $25 we could help Sara with over half of her one-time balance – bringing it down to just under $10,000 remaining.]

Intercessors: This work cannot be done without the power of committed prayer, and willingness to enter into oppressive darkness.

I am very excited about this journey. I have committed to long term service of five years with the sending organization. I am not taking this journey alone. I need an army of supporters and givers willing to join me in the battle against the dark forces of Evil in this place. I am committed to being the eyes and ears on the ground and connecting you to work God is doing on the other side of the world. Will you step into the battle with me?

You can give online to Sara by going to www.serge.org/give/ and entering her designation number #54410. [This is a secure field, and she is not listed directly on the agency website.]

To be connected with Sara’s team of intercessors and encouragers, leave a comment below and Heather will pass it along to her.

 

 

 

a guest writer and favorite Christmas posts

/ Heather Davis Nelson / 4 Comments

merry christmasDespite the sorrow and grief you’re carrying, there is reason for hope and even joy this Christmas.  Joy not as the happy-paste-on-a-smile type, but joy as what anchors your soul amidst the storms of life. Joy that tells you it will not always be so hard, and that there is a shore to which we are sailing. Sometimes it’s discovered in the small grace-glimpses. Like a retelling of the Christmas story by my 4-year-old daughter, Lucia. And so this becomes her first featured post – and a gift to each of you, that you may pause for a moment and savor the Savior whose birth is making all things new. (And oh, how we need that in a broken world of grief-weary hearts!)

Mary and Joseph walked to Bethlehem ‘cuz there were no cars or busses in their time.  They were tired!  They wanted a bed to sleep in. They went to the inn.  “We want to have a bed”.  The innkeeper said there was no room.  He said they could sleep in the barn. That night Baby Jesus was born. The shepherds got scared ‘cuz the angels came. “Don’t be afraid ‘cuz Baby Jesus is born in Bethlehem!  Go to the stable to find him”. They ran to the stable.  They went in quietly, ‘cuz Jesus was sleeping in Bethlehem.

Other Christmas posts worth perusing:

So I’ll end by saying – Merry Christmas, y’all! And to all a good night …

five minute “Friday”: adore

/ Heather Davis Nelson / 4 Comments

photo from shutterstock.com

photo from shutterstock.com

“O come let us adore Him …” rings the Christmas carol from the most unlikely places. Radio, department stores, Target. Everywhere I go, there are invitations to adore the newborn King.

But how do you adore when your heart is broken in two by grief? When you’ve lost your mom from a heart attack, when your missing friend still hasn’t been discovered, when you worry about an upcoming biopsy? How do you adore in the middle of heart-rending grief? When this is the first Christmas without your mom and your sister? Or your son or your brother or your father?

How can I adore when I’m caught up in all the tasks of the season? The parties, and the gift-buying, and the Christmas-cookie-making, and the making-sure-no-one-is-left-off-the-list?

Jesus. He invites me to adore him, and then he does the miraculous. He comes near so that I can. He interrupts my over-scheduled insanity with a bout of illness, and I’m forced to practice the white space I’ve been proclaiming. He comforts my friends in the middle of their deep grief. He leaves perfection to come to a quiet, dark, hay-filled manger – born amidst poverty. Our newborn King. He brings Christmas in a way none of us would ever have planned. And to think of this? There is no option but to adore him.

***

Writing for five minutes on a given prompt, unedited. A favorite link-up with a fabulous community of writers, hosted by Kate Motaung here.

last minute gift ideas for 4-year-old girls

/ Heather Davis Nelson / Leave a comment

If you’re like me, you might – just might – still have a few items left on your Christmas list. And if you’re looking for good gifts for the 4-year-old girl(s) in your life, I thought I would share some of our favorites. These are a few of my twins’ favorite toys they own. Guaranteed smiles for the little ladies in your life.

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Here are 7 of our favorite gifts (and let me be clear – there wasn’t a single gift they opened that they didn’t like) – in case you need ideas for your own special 4-year-old or a niece or friend:

1 – Frozen Elsa and Anna dolls. Of course. What I love about this set is that you get both of them in one package for a much more affordable price. (Right now $49 for both at Amazon.)

2 – Enchanted Princess Cupcake game. They love putting these cupcakes together and pulling them apart and pretending to have a tea party with them.

3 – Hello Kitty (anything) but particularly their Hello Kitty notebook and pen. They enjoy “writing” while sitting in bed. (I think they’ve seen me do this a *few* times?!)

4 – Lego Juniors princess edition. Seth and I love all things Lego since we both had hours of enjoyment as kids with our Lego sets. How great that this is a simpler version of the “real” Legos! We have had the Duplo-type Legos, and this seems to be a nice bridge to the “real thing.”

5 – Mermaid Factory sculpture kit. The girls loved doing this art project. I’ll admit that the glitter presented a bit of a challenge to me, but the finished project was more than worth it. The girls have their hand-painted sculptures proudly displayed on their bedside tables.

6 – Frozen dress up trunk. Again, 2-in-1 was attractive to me. Both the Elsa and Anna dresses come in this set, along with matching headbands and jewelry. Every little princesses’ dream!

7 – Melissa & Doug princess craft set. We pulled this out on Sunday morning before church and the girls had fun decorating the wand, princess crown, and magnetic princesses. Glitter, glitter everywhere – as well as stickers, and paint. They enjoyed every minute.

the gaps of Christmas

/ Heather Davis Nelson / Leave a comment

What a beautiful Christmas we are enjoying today! In addition to all of the generous gifts lavished upon us by family, there is the gift of these moments of quiet reflection (thanks to one napping girl and the other out on a Christmas walk with Daddy). And if you’re like me, despite how perfect any Christmas is from year to year, there are always reminders of the “gaps.” You know, the ways that Christmas never quite meets up to our expectations of it. The way my sentimental definition of “Christmas” misses the mark of “real” Christmas. The way I myself get off track from what IS the heart of Christmas, or rather WHO is the heart of Christmas: God as a baby in a humble manger. 

Praise be to God that he always takes the initiative to bridge these gaps. That Christmas itself is the most brilliant, bold reminder of this. We have a God who bridged the gap that I caused – that I was blind to – that I made no efforts to resolve. Out of love, he came. Knowing the rejection awaiting, the vulnerability that he (God!) would be clothed in – the humble circumstances and the eventual surrender of the best connection he’d ever had: to God his Father. He gave that up willingly for me. For Love.

To bridge the gaps in my heart that so many feel this Christmas. Like parents or siblings or children who have died, of spouses deployed, of wounds reignited by holiday gatherings, by the gap between expectations and the reality in which we live. Christmas on this earth, no matter how postcard (or Instagram, or Facebook) perfect, will always leave us longing. Longing to be with the one who came for us. Longing to follow the Christ-child into places of deeper humility and service in his name. Longing to see redemption in the gaps of our broken world caused by sin – which are even now being healed but will be so completely one day.

Redemption came in the Sunrise from on high, the one whose Elijah prepared the way by causing “those who are rebellious to accept the wisdom of the godly” (Luke 1:17). And I am the rebel who doesn’t want wisdom. Christ gently and boldly leads me to it again and again. It starts in a manger, culminates in the cross, is proved victorious and supreme by the resurrection. Let me accept true Christmas/gospel wisdom today. To lift my eyes above the gaps I see to the One who came for me. Whose love never stops. Who even now is showering me with grace more abundant than the gifts beneath our tree. And in beholding this Love, let me love.

A quote from my favorite Advent devotional this year by Ann Voskamp:

In the thin air of Advent, you may not even know how to say it out loud: “I thought it would be easier.” And your God comes near: “I will provide the way.” You may not even know who to tell: “I thought it would be different.” And your God draws closer: “I will provide grace for the gaps.” You may not even know how to find words for it: “I thought it would be … more.” And your God reaches out: “I will provide Me.”

God gives God. That is the gift God always ultimately gives. Because nothing is greater and we have no greater need, God gives God.