Itòòò½ÊÓƵ™s always a bummer to get sick during holiday season. You know, just when youòòò½ÊÓƵ™re in high gear to get the Christmas shopping finished before the parties start. Such has been the case this year. Iòòò½ÊÓƵ™ve missed several appointments, watched Amazon boxes arrive, and attempted to rest.
My chief motive to get well was Holidazzle. Itòòò½ÊÓƵ™s a womenòòò½ÊÓƵ™s event that happens on the first Saturday of December at Faith Family Church. Over the years, Mom and I have developed the tradition of going and inviting friends. Itòòò½ÊÓƵ™s a sparkling treat as ladies decorate forty-something tables for a contest. Thereòòò½ÊÓƵ™s nothing like it, and the creativity is different every year. But thatòòò½ÊÓƵ™s not all òòò½ÊÓƵ¦thereòòò½ÊÓƵ™s a lovely brunch, door prizes, and a vendor market. It also highlights the message of Christmas with songs and plenty of opportunities to laugh.
Itòòò½ÊÓƵ™s not the event for quiet reflection, so it surprised me in the midst of all the festivities that God should touch my heartòòò½ÊÓƵ”in a deep place that I mostly keep guarded and private.
A young woman spoke about the upcoming annual womenòòò½ÊÓƵ™s conference. She promoted the speaker, Lisa TerKeurst, and mentioned how one of her books had really helped her through a time of grief. When she said that, something pinged inside my spirit. Perhaps it was because I recently heard about a young mother having an aggressive cancer diagnosis òòò½ÊÓƵ¦ or maybe it was because a friendòòò½ÊÓƵ™s husband died òòò½ÊÓƵ¦ the reasons kept rolling until I lost count.
We all have an area of our life where we think, òòò½ÊÓƵœitòòò½ÊÓƵ™s not supposed to be like this.òòò½ÊÓƵ But God was faithful to spotlight the vague frustration that often gets covered up. Even on the best of days, I donòòò½ÊÓƵ™t release it the way I need to. Iòòò½ÊÓƵ™ve learned not to blame God, that Heòòò½ÊÓƵ™s not the one at the root of my personal frustration. Still, I have the tendency to think Iòòò½ÊÓƵ™ve missed what He has for me. That Iòòò½ÊÓƵ™ve taken the wrong turns at such crucial points, Iòòò½ÊÓƵ™ll never attain his original plan for my life.
Guess what? None of us do. Weòòò½ÊÓƵ™ve all sinned and fallen short. His redemption is just as sure and strong and meant for me as much as the next person. (Notice how a sneaky comparison pattern slips in? Thatòòò½ÊÓƵ™s not of God.)
But He knows. And sometimes, He wants my attention to comfort me. To give me the tools I need to fight so I donòòò½ÊÓƵ™t slip into negativity or depression. To live my best life instead of getting bogged down in the weeds.
On a human level and a God level, Jesus experienced those kinds of thoughts too. In Mark 7:32-35, Jesus healed a deaf man. But before it happened, Scriptures says, Jesus looked up to heaven with a deep sigh. I think He had an òòò½ÊÓƵœitòòò½ÊÓƵ™s not supposed to be this wayòòò½ÊÓƵ moment.
Iòòò½ÊÓƵ™m thankful for the nudge, even though I donòòò½ÊÓƵ™t understand the complexity of the human heart. Nor do I expect to get it right all the time as I move forward. If I learn to love others and myself with more grace, it will be a win.
So I choose to look heavenward. I choose to celebrate this special time of year, even if I have to wipe the tears away at times. I choose to remember I wasnòòò½ÊÓƵ™t made to live in this fallen world. None of us were. We were meant for heaven. Sin got in the way for a little while, but itòòò½ÊÓƵ™s the mere blink of an eye compared to eternity.
Thatòòò½ÊÓƵ™s why Jesus came. To redeem us.
Itòòò½ÊÓƵ™s the reason we celebrate Christmas.
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