My sweetest memories of Christmas past are those when our children and my sister’s children were young, and our broader families would all get together at one of our homes for Christmas (which always involved a long trip, since we never lived very close to each other). Our kids are stair-step ages apart: two, four, six, and eight, and so on, through the years, with my two being the younger set.
The kids’ Christmas Eve agenda was straight-forward and simple: count all the presents under the tree, sort by child, inspect, guess what each gift might be – especially the unusually-shaped ones – and then put all the gifts back under the tree in more-or-less the same arrangement they had been in, before the alluring task had begun, in hopes that the parents would not notice they had been inspected and counted.
Of course we parents never knew – wink, wink!
One year, sometime in the mid ‘90s, the grandparents gave all four of them matching warm-up suits, the same pattern, but each in a different color. They loved wearing them together – except, perhaps, my niece, who was the eldest, approaching her teens (You can almost catch the rolling of her eyes in one of the photos from that year!). But I’ll bet if I asked her today, she would agree that those years were among the best ever!
I have a Norman Rockwell-style photo from one of those early years of the four kids sitting at my sister’s dining room table, drawing or coloring, patiently and peacefully waiting for their Christmas Eve adventure to begin (One day I must make a painting of this moment, for it captures so well that golden time in their lives!).
Simple agendas, like counting and sorting gifts, are so sweet to think of. Where did that treasured time go? We all enjoyed extended family time together, baking cookies, making Swedish meatballs (veggie of course), and enjoying my brother-in-law’s convincing Christmas morning investigation of Santa and his sleigh, having visited our house in the night (which also involved his planting evidence of reindeer footprints and lettuce remains on the roof of the house)!
Honestly, Advent, I am missing that golden time this year. We won’t be traveling north to my sister’s house. All the kids are now grown, two sets of them are parents themselves, and we won’t be getting together in one, big, extended celebration.
So, where do I find Advent now? Where does the Christ-child show up in our lives today?
As I have been thinking this month about Matthew’s account of the birth of Jesus, it’s actually the second verse of chapter two that has made me stop. “Where is the newborn King of the Jews,” the astrologers (or wise men) ask King Herod. “For we have seen His star in far-off eastern lands, and have come to worship Him” (Living New Testament).
God has prompted me this season to personalize this question. Where is the newborn King showing up in me? Can He be seen in my daily life? If someone else looked to me, would God’s creative, restorative, and redemptive power shine through?
It’s not about me doing or being anything special, but about whether God’s amazing love and power is visible through me. There are seekers all around – some perhaps from far-off lands (certainly the astrologers were not of the Jewish faith, and no doubt had traveled quite some distance to get to Bethlehem); some may be from very near.
In the end, we are all seekers – of every faith, or perhaps of none, in every culture, and in every calling. He invites all of us to respond to His star.
This year, instead of matching warm-up suits for the kids, my brilliant sister invited the family to give her something very special for Christmas: socks and underwear! Not too exciting, you say? Well, they’re not for her – they’re for the homeless population in the town near where she lives. Plus, she asked for blankets, tarps, and backpacks. In the family text string, she invited any of the rest of us to join in, if we wanted, making all of our gifts these items that will bring a little comfort to our friends without homes. Text after text, from all of us on the string, read, “I’m in!” “Count me in!” “We’re on board!”
That is Christ showing up, I am sure of it.
Advent is full of seeking, waiting and counting, giving and receiving. We wait until we get to count the gifts, and we wait for the Child to be born. Joseph took Mary to Bethlehem because the citizens had to be counted, and, perhaps the kids among us will continue to count the gifts under the tree!
We might get matching warm-up suits, or we might get socks and underwear – for ourselves, or for the homeless. We might bake cookies or brownies to enjoy at our family get-togethers, or we may take goodies to brighten a lonely neighbor’s day. We might send and receive Christmas cards, or maybe we’ll write a note of encouragement to someone who is hurting.
As the season of Advent shifts and changes through different seasons of our lives, I pray that God’s love and grace will show up through us, through me – through my words and actions, through my relationships, through how I use my resources. And whether, amid chaos and distress, or warmth and joy, I will continue to seek God’s care and unconditional love, and pray that it will show up for others through me; for freely I have received, and freely I am called to give.
Heather Miller is Grandma to two beautiful grandchildren and is passionate about grace and expressing grace creatively. She uses her creative energies as an elder at the church and in helping students in the Zapara School of Business at La Sierra University.