Who Will Join Me at the Manger?

Well, here we are – just days from the end of a year that will no doubt go down in history. Already, we laugh/joke/sigh/cry about 2020.

Personally, I think I handled the early parts of the lock-down like Wonder Women. Already working from home, I faced the challenges (mostly) with courage, as I believe many of you did. But as the months wore on… and a hurricane hit (our first bad one)… AND then I got the dreaded disease, my strength faltered. Life came to a halt and I entered this holy season, emotionally crawling on my knees with my knuckles dragging in the dirt and my heart struggling to “get into the spirit of the season.”

Is it just me, or do you, too, simply want to “feel normal!”

So, I strive to do “normal December things” – like shopping (well, that’s weirder than usual) or baking (hello, do you really want my cooking?) – knowing all along, things will NOT be even CLOSE to normal this year!

But maybe, that’s just it.

Maybe, just maybe, this posture – that includes dirty knees and abounding needs – is exactly where I’m meant to be. A place where I encounter, not cinnamon smells and tinkling bells, but the scent of sweet straw and the melody of stable-songs.

It’s down here, away from the “normal” that I can peer at the tiny manger, where HOPE is found.

Down here, self-reliance is exchanged for utter peace knowing HE holds me up. Down here, despair is relinquished for JOY, knowing HE holds the future. Down here, my worries are surrendered knowing my trustworthy “God will meet all our needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19)

Down here – I. Can. Rest. In HIM.

AND I can tip-toe into 2021 – with a little trepidation, yes, a bit of wonder, and much HOPE – as long as I rest beside the manger and hold the Baby’s hand. Will you join me?