Honestly, Advent, can we be real?
Over the years, you and I have had a complicated love-hate relationship. I loved you once. I really did.
As a young girl I was mesmerized by the moments and memories that led up to Christmas. I remember expectantly waiting for my mother to bring out the old ratty box of Christmas decorations from the attic. My favorite was an old nativity set that had been passed down from my grandmother. Looking back now, I realize it was rather worn and probably not very impressive-looking to outsiders, but to me it was the story of wonder and worship. I loved to peer at the expressions of Mary, Joseph, and the wise men as they looked at the radiant baby Jesus. As they all gazed at Jesus with adoration and awe, I was inspired to do the same. Something about that humble scene captivated this young girl’s heart. I cherished it–the story of Jesus’ birth, so simply told, but overflowing with meaning, honesty, and worship.
Flash forward many years to my adult life and, slowly, over time, Advent, you lost your appeal. I secretly felt less and less enchanted with this season leading up to Christmas. Instead of highlighting the story of Jesus, simply told in a humble way, you increasingly became about to-do lists–longer and longer each year–extending outward with more children and responsibilities.
Cultural expectations had taken you and made you an invitation to overspend, over-decorate, overeat, and overdo just about everything. Obligations pressed in. Remembering teachers, friends, neighbors, relatives, and immediate family members became overwhelming. Add to that all the homemade Christmas cookies and apple pie “required” for family and friends, and I was exhausted. I couldn’t wait for Christmas to be over!
However, last year as we got out our Christmas decorations, the first thing I found was that old nativity set that had now been passed down to me. I tenderly placed it on the shiny black piano that sat prominently in our living room. As I did, I stopped for a moment to look again at the worshipful faces of the little figurines with their eyes fixed on the face of baby Jesus. But I couldn’t linger there long. I had way too much to do.
One day, I felt the unhappiness overwhelming my soul. I felt guilty for inwardly loathing you, Advent, and wishing you were over already. I silently cried out to the Lord, “Oh Jesus, I want to love this time of celebrating You, but I confess that I don’t. Nothing I’m doing is bringing me to You. I’m wondering what any of this actually has to do with You!”
Then I heard His still small voice speak to my heart with sweetness, “It doesn’t child. What you’re doing has nothing to do with Me.”
My heart quickened, and I stopped in my tracks. I was prompted to ask Him more. “Oh, Lord, if you were truly leading the way, how would You want Christmas to be celebrated? Does anything I’m doing reflect Your heart, Your values, or Your desires? Lord Jesus, I am miserable. Help me find You in this time that’s supposed to be all about You!”
It was a real come-to-Jesus meeting.
Yet often, what we all need more than anything is precisely a come-to-Jesus meeting, so we can actually cometo Jesus. It was in that space, where my guilt, shame and resentment found a voice, that I found Jesus and His peace.
I wept as I was flooded with His goodness, mercy, grace, and understanding. I was doing so much for Christmas, but almost none of it had to do with Jesus Himself. It all had more to do with my perception of obligations, traditions, and expectations. It had even more to do with meseeking approval, admiration, and accolades for my stupendous work to make Christmas so wonderful for everyone else. However, these perceptions and desires were killing my soul. Even worse, they were killing my opportunity to love and celebrate Jesus, and find deeper meaning in you, Advent.
In that moment I knew some things had to go if I was to reclaim my heart for you and my chance to worship Jesus. I had to make a choice, and I decided to choose Jesus.
This meant I had to let go of doing so much for so many people. I had to focus on making this a time about Jesus and His ways. I had to reclaim my young girl’s heart for the awe and wonder of simply staring at Jesus’ face and contemplating His gift to us.
Now, Advent, this is a word to my dear friends. Perhaps we’re all invited to our own come-to-Jesus meetings so we can actually come to Jesus.
“Oh come, let us adore Him. Oh come, let us adore Him. Oh come, let us adore Him, Christ, the Lord.”
Diane Tracey Flook grew up as part of the La Sierra University Church, but has lived most of her adult life in Arizona raising her family. She and her husband recently returned to La Sierra to help care for her elderly parents. She is excited to be a part of her childhood church again, and she recently started volunteering at the Wellness Warehouse.