Missing: Baby Jesus
My sweet seven-year-old, Shelby, is the official decorator in our house. [She's actually the only decorator. She loves all things beautiful and fancy and season-attentive. I appreciate it but don't put in the time. My husband and son may not even notice if we put a tree in the middle of the tub.]
And though she set up her own pink Christmas tree in September (not kidding), I told her she needed to wait until the week of Thanksgiving to set up the nativity. She gathered everything from her closet (yes, that's where it's stored; I told you she was our decorator) and started setting it up in our living room.
After some minutes, she solemnly came up to me and softly confided, "Mom, I can't find baby Jesus. And you know we can't have a nativity without Him."
I loved her sweet heart and her childlike understanding of the manger scene. And as I sent her to her room to look a little more, I pondered the depth of her statement: Can I tell you right now where Jesus is in my heart? Is my Christmas really focused on Him or is He lost in the midst of everything else?
She returned from looking and declared: "I don't see him anywhere. I'm just going to put so much stuff in the manger that nobody will realize He's not there." In her hands were tiny Christmas ornaments, small gold stars, some cotton (probably left over from Easter), and other various sparkly things. She really did it; the manger was so full you might not even notice that Jesus wasn't there.
[By now you're probably asking yourself, "How full is my own Christmas? Am I leaving space and time and mental clarity for the One who came not just to live but to die for me? Or do I have so much stuff in my life right now that I actually--heaven forbid--push Him aside until Christmas is gone and my life is more sane?"]
Shelby left the room and my 9-year-old son, Daniel, came in. "Shelby told me she couldn't find Jesus," he told me, "but I have an idea." Daniel proceeded to take all the other people in our manger scene--shepherds, wise men, and a few others from an incomplete nativity set we picked up somewhere along the way--and lined them up along the front of the manger. "There," he declared, "now there are so many people you can't even see He's missing."
Out of the mouths of babes didn't even start to describe how my own heart had been kick-started. This was my own struggle right here: I love people. I want to do family stuff, friend stuff, church stuff, music stuff, and everything that will spread joy and goodwill and good food and good times. People are what make our lives full, and Christmas is a great time to draw close to those we love.
Unless those people block our view of Jesus.
So under the inspiration of my children and their oh-so-simple quest to find Jesus in this Christmas season, I'm going to do a few things differently this December:
And though she set up her own pink Christmas tree in September (not kidding), I told her she needed to wait until the week of Thanksgiving to set up the nativity. She gathered everything from her closet (yes, that's where it's stored; I told you she was our decorator) and started setting it up in our living room.
After some minutes, she solemnly came up to me and softly confided, "Mom, I can't find baby Jesus. And you know we can't have a nativity without Him."
I loved her sweet heart and her childlike understanding of the manger scene. And as I sent her to her room to look a little more, I pondered the depth of her statement: Can I tell you right now where Jesus is in my heart? Is my Christmas really focused on Him or is He lost in the midst of everything else?
She returned from looking and declared: "I don't see him anywhere. I'm just going to put so much stuff in the manger that nobody will realize He's not there." In her hands were tiny Christmas ornaments, small gold stars, some cotton (probably left over from Easter), and other various sparkly things. She really did it; the manger was so full you might not even notice that Jesus wasn't there.
[By now you're probably asking yourself, "How full is my own Christmas? Am I leaving space and time and mental clarity for the One who came not just to live but to die for me? Or do I have so much stuff in my life right now that I actually--heaven forbid--push Him aside until Christmas is gone and my life is more sane?"]
Shelby left the room and my 9-year-old son, Daniel, came in. "Shelby told me she couldn't find Jesus," he told me, "but I have an idea." Daniel proceeded to take all the other people in our manger scene--shepherds, wise men, and a few others from an incomplete nativity set we picked up somewhere along the way--and lined them up along the front of the manger. "There," he declared, "now there are so many people you can't even see He's missing."
Out of the mouths of babes didn't even start to describe how my own heart had been kick-started. This was my own struggle right here: I love people. I want to do family stuff, friend stuff, church stuff, music stuff, and everything that will spread joy and goodwill and good food and good times. People are what make our lives full, and Christmas is a great time to draw close to those we love.
Unless those people block our view of Jesus.
So under the inspiration of my children and their oh-so-simple quest to find Jesus in this Christmas season, I'm going to do a few things differently this December:
- I'm going to actually seek Him. Really seek Him, in His Word. My quiet time is sacred, and in order to honor Jesus at Christmas, this must stay first in my priorities.
- I'm going to worship Him. The wise men, likely sorcerers and astrologers from Babylon or some other far-away land, brought their riches to worship Him. They didn't miss who He was, because they were looking for Him. I can, too, in how I focus my life on the only Lord and King.
- I'm going to give Him the center spotlight. Center of my focus, center of my time, center of my heart. I can't be the person I need to be unless He is the one who fills me with strength, love, hope, and joy. Anything great I do for others comes from Him living inside me.
- I'm not going to let other things crowd Him out. No matter how fun the prospect of another Christmas party is, I'm going to keep it peaceful around here. I'm going to keep peace in my mind and my heart by saying, "No, thanks," to a couple of invites.
You'll be happy to know that Baby Jesus was found...in Shelby's toy box. [I'm sure there's another lesson in that.] And every time I look at that nativity, I'll remember that He is back where He belongs: the star of Bethlehem.
Want to read a few more blog posts about Christmas? They're old but I still love them: I wrote them on Mary, Elizabeth, Zechariah, Joseph (and another here), the shepherds, and even one for college girls on how to enjoy Christmas break.
@leslienotebook
myleslienotebook@gmail.com
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