Not Your Typical Christmas Story

Some seasons it feels as if we are going through the motions. I can be a humbug but in a slightly different fashion then Scrooge. There is always one more batch of cookies to make, one more Christmas movie to watch or party to go to. It’s when I don’t accomplish my list that the humbug sets in. I start focusing on all the ways I am disappointing my kids and not bringing them the Christmas Spirit.

Funny right?

My kids would be more than happy with a Charlie Brown Christmas tree, store bought cookies, and Christmas music piping through the house. But I have this inner desire to go big.

I never pull it off.

Instead I’m left feeling inadequate, stressed out, and disappointed. My standards are too high.

Last Christmas, we unplugged. Our trip to St. Jude fell on the first of December and we were home by the 10th. Instead of jumping into our regular routine we scaled back. We skipped all of our gymnastics classes, skipped school work and said no to party invites. We watched Christmas movies, read books, and played board games. We ate together every night and had breakfast together every morning. We did the minimum and it was glorious.

So why do I fall back into the trap of BIG?

I want my life to matter. I want to know that my words make an impact. I want to know that my efforts bring joy. I want to know that memories are being made and cherished. So much pressure.

I forget at times that the little things have the biggest impact. God takes the little everyday moments and turns them into miracles.

In John 6, Jesus is ministering to a large crowd. They are hungry but there is no where nearby to buy food. One little boy in the crowd offers his five loaves and two fish and a miracle occurs. Jesus feeds 5,000 with this one child’s lunch.

This boy was faithful in a little thing. He handed over his lunch. And I can’t help but think that someone at home (a mother, caregiver, father, etc.) was faithful in the loving act of packing a lunch. Jesus took this tiny everyday gesture of care and turned it into a miracle.

I need to remember this.

The perfect memory is not my responsibility.

The miracle is not within my range of possibility.

When I offer what I have in love, God is the one who transforms it.