It’s been some time since I’ve written here.  Between my computer having problems and my sweet girls continuing to get sick over and over again, it’s been challenging to find time to sit down and write.  My youngest is on her third or fourth cold of the season, and just when I think she’s gotten over her cold, she somehow catches another.  Thankfully, it doesn’t seem too serious.  However, we’ve had our fair share of staying at home and consequently, a few of us, (me included) have cabin fever.  It has been challenging to not let the fussiness, the crankiness, the girls’ sicknesses of both the body and spirit not seep into my own bones, especially when my own tendencies lean towards the pessimistic.  It’s too easy for me to begin to complain with the intention of simply sharing about my own life to complain and make it all about me, me, ME.  Though there’s a time and place for venting, true sharing, and seeking prayer and advice, this time isn’t one of them.  This post isn’t going to be about sickness or my pessimism.  It really is not.

It’s about Jesus.  It’s the advent season, where as Christians we are to wait with expectation and preparation for the celebration of our Lord’s birth.  For some reason, this year, this hasn’t felt enough.  And I’ve begun to realize that I think I know why.  It’s because despite Advent being about remembering the Lord’s birth AND remembering that one day Jesus will return, it somehow solely becomes about the miracle of Jesus’ birth or the birth and repentance (because Jesus is coming soon).  As amazing and wonderful the miracle of Jesus being born, God comes to earth as a baby!,  this miracle alone is only part of the story of Jesus.  It’s not even the good part.  Okay, well, actually it really is a pretty good story.  Luke 1:26-2:20.  Because, though our redemption begins with Jesus’ birth, it was completed through Jesus’ death on the cross and His resurrection.  That was the defining moment.  It’s what made Him our Savior.  I know, I know.  Who wants to think about death during Christmas?  But I do.  Because without that piece of God’s story, Our story, everything else would be well, it would all be meaningless.  So this season, as I read and remember Jesus’ birth, I will also turn to the passages that are typically set aside for Easter, Luke 22:39-24:53 and read and remember why His birth is so significant.  That baby in the manger grows up to be my Savior.

I’d like to leave you with the words of my favorite Christmas hymn:

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here came the wise men from Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger,
In all our trials born to be our Friend!
He knows our need—to our weakness is no stranger.
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His Gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His Name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy Name!
Christ is the Lord! O praise His name forever!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!

Words: Pla­cide Cap­peau, 1847 (Mi­nuit, chré­tiens, c’est l’heure so­len­nelle); trans­lat­ed from French to Eng­lish by John S. Dwight (1812-1893)

It’s my prayer that during these trying moments that test my patience, when I want to complain, when I feel discouraged I would read and remember, seeking the Lord first and maybe just maybe the His joy would instead replace the sickness deep into my bones and my heart.