Daniel broke his leg on Saturday. He broke his leg not even a full 24 hours
after I wrote a blog post about how my Christmas was perfect this year. And all the details aren’t important. It isn’t healthy or necessary for me to
rehash the whole story. But what is
important is that this situation has worked very hard to steal my joy. Ironically, only a few days after his
accident, I ended up engaged in a couple other stressful moments that I had
managed to avoid all season. Needless to
say, there has been no shortage of crying to my girlfriends on long distance
calls this week. Thank goodness I had
several buddies off work and free to talk when I most needed them.
And, I’ll be honest, this week has made me ashamed at how
quickly I let my peace be stolen. I’m
frustrated with how easily I let seemingly small things work into my heart to
ruin my peace and make me so angry. I’m
ashamed at how easily Satan picked the exact things to which I’m most weak and
used them so well. I’m angry that I’m
STILL struggling with the same battles I fought a year ago.
And I could write about all the ways God has met our needs
so well this week. Because he has. Two sweet neighbors separately brought Daniel
gifts he could play with in his lap.
Friends in Greenville, Raleigh, New Bern, Charlotte, and Winton-Salem
were among the first I texted to ask for prayers – reminding me of how vastly
God has blessed me with close relationships.
The YMCA nursery workers have met me right where I needed, tolerating my
tears and being so, so good to my sweet boy.
My brothers, sisters-in-law, and parents have been exactly what I needed
because they know me so well. Andy’s
family has offered support, visits, and sent Daniel their love.
God is good to us.
But in spite of all that goodness, my heart has been bitter. And isn’t it always a heart thing anyway? I just texted a couple of girls in Charlotte
asking for prayers for one of the situations that happened this week unrelated
to Daniel’s leg, and I specifically said, “Pray for my heart because I think my
actions are fine.”
Getting my heart in line with God’s is so challenging for
me. Yesterday, was a day that was
especially tough, and to make matters worse, I was so busy. Andy and I celebrate Christmas with Daniel on
Christmas Eve. It is our compromise with
our families who request we spend Christmas Day with them. So there was certainly a lot to do to get
ready. But when I found myself crying in
the kitchen again, I knew it was time
to stop. It was time to sit at the feet
of Jesus – something I had not done well in days. I left my dirty kitchen, my half-prepared
Christmas breakfast food, my unwrapped presents, and Andy in charge of Daniel,
and I escaped to my room. I opened my
Bible to Romans 12 – the passage that I’ve been using for a year to try to
overcome those same pesky heart problems – and collapsed into the arms of
Jesus. And it was so good.
Now, I definitely can’t say that I’ve overcome my heart
challenges. I 100% haven’t. Even in writing this blog some of those
nagging, annoying thoughts have threaten to wiggle their way in to my mind – my
goodness, Satan is crafty. But I’m
trying. And after yesterday, I’m freshly
armed with scripture like “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful
in prayer” and “Overcome evil with good” and “As far as it depends on you, live
at peace with everyone.” I’m armed with
those scriptures to remember when I’m tempted to hold my bitterness and anger
instead.
And, I’m reminded that that the first Christmas probably
wasn’t all that peaceful, either. And I
bet that, at least in Mary’s eyes, things weren’t going according to plan. I mean, who wants to ride a donkey while
having contractions? Who wants to give
birth to their first baby while surrounded by hay, animals, possibly other
travelers, and with a man they likely don’t know well? I bet Mary thought she would be on a bed, in
a private room, with her mother holding her hand when she had her first
baby. I would not be surprised if fear,
frustration, and even a little anger were present in that first Christmas as
well. But then Jesus came. And as a mother myself, I know that holding
your sweet baby, makes everything better.
It isn’t that the pain is forgotten, it is that it just doesn’t matter
anymore. None of it matters. All that matters is that child. And how true is that of THIS child? Of this Messiah? Of Jesus whose name means “God saves”? Yes, in the past week a few things popped up
that made me fearful, frustrated, an angry.
Some of those things, like Daniel’s leg, I got over quickly. Others I know will continue to be a
struggle. But when I look at the Christ,
when I allow him to be my focus, those things don’t matter as much (and
hopefully, one day as the Holy Spirit works on me, won’t matter at all).
I’m typing this blog in the quiet of my living room while my
family sleeps. The Christmas tree casts
a soft glow, the yeasty smell of rising cinnamon rolls is reaching my nose, and
I know the excitement of my favorite day with my boys is right around the
corner. But, in this moment, I’m
reminded again that Christ is all that matters – he is the lens that puts
everything else in my life into perspective and the only one who can quiet my
heart. I’m thankful for my husband who
is so patient with me, for my son who always makes me smile, for family and
friends who know me well and love me anyway, but today, I’m also thankful for
this not so perfect Christmas and for the reminder, again, that Jesus is all I
really need.
