During the holidays I find myself wishing for calm. I want peaceful evenings in front of the tree and pleasant outings to see the lights. I want safe, quiet travels followed by pleasant gatherings with family and friends. I want Christmas morning marked by grateful children, the celebration of Jesus, and toys that cooperate as the instructions suggest. Yes, I want this. But, I have never experienced it. Christmas is usually better in hindsight. In the moment, it’s a bit nuts.
In truth, Christmas will probably involve some of the above paired with my children pestering one another. When we travel, someone will instinctively need to pee because we just passed the last gas station for 30 miles. The nieces and nephews will be super pumped for presents and also crying by 9 a.m. because one of them took Baby Jesus out of the manger. Both cooking and travel will be more rushed than we would like. It’s chaos before, chaos after, with moments of peace dotted in between.
But, what recently gave me pause (and brought me joy!) was realizing I have been idolizing a peaceful Christmas when the first one was anything but. In fact, it is I who decided Christmas should be peaceful. However, Jesus has given us absolutely no such assurance that will be the case. In fact, it is the chaos of our own Christmases that can actually serve to point us to Christ. Because that’s how God works…using our inadequacy to point to His perfect provision.
The Chaos of the First Christmas
In the days leading up to the first Christmas, a divinely inspired set of circumstances upended a few lives. A young girl was pregnant with a baby she didn’t fully know how to explain or understand. Her husband-to-be was perplexed that she was pregnant until an angel materialized and told him to be cool with it. They went ahead and got married while she was pregnant and began their life together. Then, as Mary neared her due date, the government told them to make their way back to their hometown for a census. Just 90 miles on foot or donkey. No big deal. Upon arrival there were no hotel rooms left, she went into labor and gave birth in a barn.
Yep. Chaos.
Then, just for a moment…
The heavens shouted glory.
The shepherds showed up to worship.
The wise men gave gifts.
And the heavens paused to celebrate the birth of the Savior. Peace, for a moment.
But, within minutes, the chaos began again. Just barely post-partum, Mary had to leave in the middle of the night because King Herod planned to kill their newborn. Furious he didn’t catch Jesus, he went about killing a bunch of other babies (Matt. 2:16-18). Literally running for their lives, Mary and Joseph had to learn how to be parents and raise the Savior of the world in a foreign land without family and they didn’t get to go home for a really long time.
If all this was true at the first Christmas, why have I decided mine “should” be peaceful? Why have I idolized something that was never set before me to begin with? Because like most things, we like to control how our lives roll out. We like to set parameters around how particular events are supposed to go. For this reason, mercifully, humans didn’t get to choose how Jesus came into this world because we would have mucked it all up with our priorities. Thank goodness.
May we trust Him with the chaos, the unpredictability, and the moments of joy and difficulty that we don’t even know are coming. This year, I hope it helps us worship the Savior all the more.
If you enjoyed this, please see Anne’s blog for more mental health topics around suffering, reframing difficulty, and making meaning in challenging experiences.
Originally published December 11, 2018, updated for freshness and clarity.
Anne Rulo 