I am really having a hard time getting into the “Christmas spirit” here in Australia this year. We’re not stringing cranberries and popcorn, or unwrapping Christmas books each day of this month. I didn’t bring the Christmas books box, or the books of Christmas songs that we enjoy playing on piano and singing through November and December. We have no tree or lights. An advent candle to remind us that Jesus is the light of the world would feel very silly when it’s light out well before 5am. We can’t bake anything for Jesus and make our first piece offering here in West End, it would be littering.
I have to admit that I really miss these things, and will likely have a new appreciation for them next year. But I am thankful that all of our intentionally built up traditions are being stripped from me, because it’s helping me get back to the heart of Christmas, which is, quite simply, that God came to earth as a baby.
Three years ago, when Twill was an infant, I was filled with the Christmas spirit before Halloween even. I wrote a piece on Christmas Joy that I am feeling keenly again. So I wanted to share it here.
It’s from October 27, 2015
My life is pretty messy right now with four little boys. It’s full of tempers, not the least of which being my own, sleepless nights and tummy troubles, all the predictable messes you can imagine and some you really don’t want to hear about. Life is also pretty mundane right now. I don’t really do much besides feed and clothe my family each day as they all run together. And yet the truth is I have more joy right now than I ever have. Not just happy moments when the kids are cute, but unshakable joy when I blow it every day. So much that I just have to share it. The thing that’s overflowing me with joy is Christmas. It’s not even Halloween and I am giddy thinking about Christmas.
It is increasingly meaningful to me as life rolls on that God came as a baby. He didn’t cut any corners when he came. He came as a baby with everything to learn. This is fun to think about with a house full of little boys. Jesus had to learn to get his hands to his mouth. He had to learn to talk and say “please.” He probably wet his pants, wiped his hands on shirt, his nose on his sleeve, and made poop jokes. He was a little boy. And even though he was perfect, we know for a fact that he tried his imperfect parents’ patience, because there’s even record of it.
Then he lived through the awkwardness of the teenage years, and every single day of the tumultuous twenties, wrestling with hormones and identity, navigating relationships and maturing emotions. This is not easy stuff for anyone. He may have broken a few hearts, not because he was careless, but because we are so desperately hungry for love and he’s incredibly good at loving. My Jesus was a young man, whether ignored or sought after, I can only imagine.
This just gets to me that God lived through each messy, mundane day, slowly maturing just like we are. My husband likes to point out that movies can be so cohesive and poignant because no one ever has to go the bathroom. It’s not real life, just the parts that make a good story. But God is not about appearances. He’s not like an executive who doesn’t know his janitor. He could have just come for a week vacation to see what it’s like down here, but he didn’t. He came as a baby.
The truth is I can understand where he might have been tempted to cut his visit short when I think about what he was walking into. It’s not safe down here. We get hurt regularly, and often by each other. What pierces my heart when I read about his manhood, the years I am in right now, is how lonely he was. He tirelessly poured himself out day and night, healing and loving everyone he met. But no one “got him,” not his friends or his enemies.
I think it’s safe to say we all want to be known, I can tell you I do anyway, but Jesus didn’t get to feel understood at all while he was here. The only one who knew him was the Father he had left up in heaven, even though he lived day in and day out with those around him. There was no one he could entrust himself too, one of his best friends records, because he could see into their hearts.
This is so sad to me that Jesus walked this messy life so friendless. I think this has got to be one of the biggest burdens he carried each day. He wasn’t like us. He didn’t get to give people the benefit of the doubt to get through messes in relationships. He saw into their hearts, and loved them anyway. I know enough about my own heart to know that I don’t truly want to know what’s in everyone’s heart. The depth and darkness of my own is overwhelming enough.
So this is what fills me with joy these days. That God came as a baby. He did not cut any corners or do anything for show. It was all for love. Each messy day he spent growing into a man was for love. Each lonely day he spent loving those around him, even though he could see into their hearts, just amazes me. And I believe he is still doing it for me right now, loving me even though he knows my heart, brining purpose to each messy day. I just can’t keep this joy inside this Christmas. I want to share it with everyone I love