November/December 2002
The Presents of God
by Susan Reedy
| After all, what greater gift could I bring someone than the message of his birth, his life, his death and his resurrection? |
It's that time again. Excitement tinged with anxiety. Stress heaped over celebration. Thankfulness for Christ's birth suspended somewhere amid frantic prayers to survive another season. It's Christmas.
I love the idea of Christmas. I sometimes dread the event. The season can be so joyous, but so exhausting. So many cookies to make. Lights to hang. Tinsel to throw. Cards to send. Busy shoppers to contend with. Sometimes I just sit down and cry as I watch the baby in the manger get stampeded by my run-away to-do list.
This year I have already thought a lot about what I want to do to create my "ideal" Christmas. When I close my eyes and open my senses, I envision a cozy house, replete with the laughter of children and the tinkle of eggnog glasses. I smell the sweetness of a pumpkin pie mingled with the fresh evergreen of the tree. I see twinkling lights gently reflecting off the polished flatware of a perfectly set table. I'm reclining on soft pillows right next to our blazing fire. It's all just right....
And then I open my eyes like a stunned cow that got too close to the electric fence. Who's going to polish the silverware, decorate the tree, mash the pumpkins, nail up the lights and carve out a hole in our wall for a fireplace? Not to mention dress the kids, bake the turkey and pour the eggnog. I'm not Martha Stewart.
Besides, as charming as that scene is, it isn't the essence of Christmas. It might be a beautiful way to celebrate, but it's not the only way. Especially when it creates an ogre out of me. And I have two little ones who I don't want believing the Christmas story involves God, Mary and Joseph, a baby in a manger and a Tasmanian devil mother rushing by in a blizzard of wrapping paper and colored bows.
So, maybe this year I'll slow down. I will focus on God's miraculous presence and enjoy everybody else's Christmas lights. Instead of worrying about all the things I have to do before December 25, I'm going to settle in and focus on what He did.
Christ's birth rocked the world. That night in Bethlehem was full of starlit wonder as God entered the world as one of us. He is the reason. He is the purpose. He is the Life.
He gave up everything to just come along beside us and walk the road we walk. And maybe that's what he wants me to do, too. To walk beside someone. To be a presence in their life more than just another present under a tree. After all, what greater gift could I bring someone than the message of his birth, his life, his death and his resurrection?
I've decided to ask God to send me to someone this Christmas who hasn't yet invited Christ into his or her life. Maybe we'll share some coffee, or I'll volunteer to babysit their kids. I'll walk the walk rather than merely follow the appropriate Christmas protocol. I want to live a life full of joy that produces a hunger for Christ, not a life of frantic rushing that makes everyone dive for cover.
Christ came to give to those in need, and I want to make this Christmas a time to give my children what they need -- to sense the thrill of giving to those who face hardships greater than running out of ice cream.
Instead of rushing to the mall to buy the latest toy or recently released perfume, maybe this year we'll spend an afternoon offering cookies, hot chocolate and a "Merry Christmas!" to those walking by. We'll let people know we love them even if we don't get all the cards stamped and delivered on time.
I believe that for Christmas to bring us the blessings of eternity, Christ must be at the center of the whole experience. It's more important to feel his presence in our heart than to heap presents under a tree. My growing place this year is to stop putting on my own Christmas pageant and instead snuggle deeper and deeper into the putting on of Christ, enjoying the season thoroughly in the presents of God.
-- Susan Reedy