I felt it the moment my friend looked around my house and said with a playful smile, “You’re the only one I know who hasn’t put up a Christmas tree yet!”
And again when a well-meaning neighbor pointed out that we were the only house on the block without strands of lights casting twinkles in the darkness.
A quiet dread. A heaviness smothering my soul.
It burned like quiet tears when I scrolled through Facebook and noted the steady stream of color-coordinated family pictures fit for a Christmas card.
And it hovered like an unwelcome lump in the back of my throat when the well-meaning grocery clerk asked if I’d started my Christmas shopping yet.
A rising panic. A wordless worry.
For goodness sake, I was still trying to figure out how to thaw the turkey for Thanksgiving.
And how to convince my preschooler she needs to keep on her snow boots as autumn gives way to winter.
And what to do with all those toy magazines that were piling on our kitchen counter and threatening to turn my wide-eyed children into green-eyed monsters.
The weight of the season can bear down hard this time of year.
Yet, we celebrate the One who came to lift our burdens (Matthew 11:29-30).
And so, right there in the grocery store, I took a deep breath and remembered a lesson I’d learned from a wise little boy one holiday season years ago…..
It was a brisk November afternoon, one day before the scheduled birth of my third born, and I was trying to savor my last few hours as a mom of two.
I’d tucked my youngest beneath her covers for a nap and had curled up on the couch for story time with my firstborn.
Though I normally love to snuggle up and read to my children, on that particular day; the experience felt far from magical. I had no lap left on which my son could nestle. And no matter how hard I tried to enjoy those rare quiet moments with five-year-old Lukas, my bulging stomach insisted on being the uninvited guest.
Every time my son leaned in to get a closer look at the pictures in our book, he received a prompt THUMP from the tiny foot hiding beneath my bulge.
As our story time proceeded, I grew more and more irritated by the uncomfortable boxing match in my belly. Lukas, however, was enjoying the vivid reminders of the life within me.
In fact, after one particularly aggressive THUMP he turned to me with an irresistible grin and said, “I can’t believe tomorrow I’m finally going to see those feet that have been kicking me for so long!”
Then, with eyes agleam, he added, “I can’t wait to count all those little toes!”
I remember gazing quietly into my son’s pensive eyes and wiping away the tears sliding out of my own.
How had I forgotten the feet?
Somehow, in those last few weeks of pregnancy, my much-wished-for, much-prayed-for, much-anticpated gift from Heaven had turned into a wearisome muddle of THUMPS.
A string of uncomfortable and inconvenient interruptions.
I kissed my little boy’s soft head and bowed my own in that humble moment on the couch. And while the baby tucked beneath my heart kicked and punched, I begged God to keep me aware of the toes beyond the THUMP until I could hold those tiny feet in my hands…
I haven’t sported a pregnant belly for several years. But that simple prayer seems fitting still.
‘Cause I’ve learned that it’s easy to approach the Christmas season much like I approached those last long days of pregnancy .
Like a full-term belly, my holiday schedule can bulge uncomfortably with activities and to-do’s until the miracle behind the madness has been reduced to a mere series of THUMPS rather than an unparalleled gift of grace.
Only fifteen shopping days left. THUMP.
The neighbors have already hung their lights. THUMP.
The church needs 3 dozen cookies for the Christmas program by the end of the week. THUMP.
And so it goes right up until Christmas day when our Savior’s birthday catches a tired and frazzled me by surprise.
What would our Christmas season be like if we learned to see the feet beyond the THUMPS?
How would our holidays change if we remembered that at the heart of Christmas is a pair of perfect feet that willingly stepped into the muck and mire of our imperfect lives on a starry night long ago. (Luke 2)
It’s amazing when you think about it…
The same feet that strolled through the Garden with Adam and Eve stroll beside us today.
The same feet that wandered in the dessert with His people for forty years; wander with us today.
The same feet that kicked about in the manger; the same feet that the wise men bowed low to adore; the same feet that walked the hill to Calvary on our behalf; walk with us still.
It’s audacious, really…that those holy feet are still here with us as we wade through the holiday frenzy and plod through our endless lists of preparations.
So how do we remember those holy feet behind our THUMPS?
How do we keep our eyes fixed on the Reason for the season?
We begin by asking Jesus to help us see Him in the frenzy and the fanfare, the garland and the glitz.
We may not be able to count the Bethlehem baby’s toes, but we can spy His tracks.
We can count our blessings as we move through the busy days ahead (and perhaps we’ll discover that in counting our gifts, we see the Giver more clearly.)
We can open God’s Word and marvel with our children at His lavish love wrapped in wrinkled skin and placed in a manger on a Christmas long ago.
We can focus on giving more than getting, on serving more than surviving.
We can surrender our expectations for a Pinterest-worthy holiday and remember that our Savior is most worthy of our attention and adoration.
And maybe, if we open the eyes of our hearts to see His feet behind those THUMPS, this holiday season will become a time of anticipation instead of a blur of exasperation.
I may not make it to the mall to hunt for the perfect gift, but beginning today, I’m going to make it a priority to hunt for glimpses of my Savior’s feet and hold onto the joy.
‘Cause that Bethlehem baby whose Christmas birth we celebrate leaves evidence of His grace in the most ordinary of places.
Even in that empty corner where a Christmas tree should be standing tall!
- Ch…ch…ch…CHANGES Are Coming in 2017 for TMI - December 27, 2016
- What New Thing Are You Ready to See God Do in Your Life in 2017? - December 26, 2016
- Heaviness and Newness - December 23, 2016
