When we think of the nativity scene, we paint a picture of perfection. It's what we see in those commercial crèches and manger scenes in the stores. The shepherds are all neat and tidy, the wise men look resplendent in their expensive garments, and the gifts they bear are neatly wrapped. Inside the stable, the animals are clean, and the hay is neatly tossed. We see a tender scene of a baby with his parents. Everything seemed to happen without a glitch ... not! Perhaps in a perfect world, but the world wasn't perfect when Christ was born, just as it isn't perfect today.
The Joy of Christmas Passed Me By
I used to be perfect, but now I'm a member in good standing of "Fruitcakes Anonymous," and a recovering Marthawannabe. I have a hard time convincing people of my previous life when they visit me now and see Mount Ararat size mounds of laundry stacked on chairs and "Santa Was Here, 1999" written in the dust on my coffee table. But believe me, I was the seal of Good Housekeeping. During the holidays, I'd go all out decorating my home for Christmas and baking fruitcakes for decoration. Everything had to be just right. Handmade presents piled high (but not cluttered) under a sparkly tree festooned with ornaments I carved, baked, or sat down at a potter's wheel to make. Gourmet jars of jams and jellies, all ninety-eight varieties were lovingly decorated with edible flowers. Homemade chocolate covered cherries packed individually in miniature hand-folded foil boxes. Hand-dipped scented beeswax candles twinkled and handpicked wildflower potpourris simmered. The doorbell chimed "Do You Hear What I Hear?" and the hallway greeted guests with a welcome carpet of homegrown, hand-dipped silver and gold poinsettias. While I didn't go as far as wandering through the woods looking for bird's nests to serve entrees in, I did carve out individual miniature pumpkins to serve soup in one year. As perfect as it all looked on the outside, the inside of my heart was a mess. Come Christmas morning, I'd paint a smile on my face to hide my fatigue, tension, and woe is me, money worries.
The point is this. We live in a cruel world that holds up an illusion of perfection that isn't attainable. Television, movies, magazines and ?how to' books bombard us with gold tinsel balls of wisdom on how to dress, when to diet, how to build strong relationships and careers and how to look like Fabio or some Hollywood diva. They tell us what we want, or should want and how to get it. We're told to find ourselves, but then encouraged to be everyone else. We're never told how to be the person God made us to be. My problem was that I tried to find myself through society's expectations, and not through Christ.
Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31).
God told Jeremiah "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you" (Jer. 1:5). This applies to everyone. I'm God's unique creation made to serve a specific purpose. I'm where I am and who I am for a reason, and that reason is to serve the Lord with all of my heart. He's given me free will, I can choose based on the prompting of the Holy Spirit within me. But the world doesn't value the things of heaven, and the enemy does what he can to pull me away from the purpose God has for me. I don't want success with an empty soul. I don't want a perfect house with an empty soul. I don't want a perfect family with an empty soul. I don't want a bestseller book with an empty soul. I don't even want a perfect soufflé with a perfect soul. I want to be my imperfect, authentic self in Christ now, above all else.
Mary wasn't perfect but she birthed Perfection. She and Joseph allowed God to orchestrate the events. They kept their souls full with the promises of God. I wonder what would have happened if Mary or Joseph tried to fix things themselves. First a stranger (who turned out to be an angel) appears and tells the young, unmarried Mary that she will be with child. How was she going to explain that one to Joseph? And poor Joseph, once he did get a grip, there was cause for concern. Who would believe them? In those days adulterers and those who engaged in extra or premarital affairs were likely stoned or whipped, or banished. But they plodded through, believing God's purpose in their lives and through them, would see things through.
If that wasn't enough ...
The pair got through the first two trimesters without apparent hindrances, but lo, the census. The travel to Bethlehem was long and arduous. Mary was very pregnant. Mary and Joseph weren't wealthy, and in all probability couldn't afford the luxury of a camel or servants to carry her, so it's possible she made the journey on donkey-back. Ouch. After days and days of travel, the tired couple arrived in Bethlehem, along with thousands of other people returning to their birthplace. They enquired at an inn for a room, but told there wasn't a room left in all of Bethlehem. Imagine. I wonder what went through Mary's mind when she realized she'd be birthing her son in a stable. What would I have done? Sobbed my guts out, felt sorry for myself, and insist Joseph keep going until we found a more suitable place.
Then there is labor. Well, I can relate to natural childbirth. There wasn't enough time for me to beg for drugs, and although I panicked at the thought of, well, you know . . . but at least I had a doctor, nurses, and the comfort of birthing in a clean hospital, a far cry from a smelly old stable. The only animal I had around at my son's birth was a stuffed teddy bear. Poor Mary had sheep and cows and probably rodents to contend with; and no running water, heat, electricity, laughing gas, or epidurals. Ouch again. I'd be freaking. I remember at one point I wanted to back out of the whole affair, but it was too late. I delivered thirty minutes later.
And the angel said unto her, "Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor in the Lord" (Luke 1:30).
Mary and Joseph flee
The Christ child was miraculously born, healthy and strong. Mary and Joseph's worries seemed over, until they received word that a nasty old king was out to murder their toddler. Off they fled to Egypt. Here again, I can relate. Within a few days of my son's birth, I had a sick phone call from a pedophile who found my name in the paper, looked up my number in the telephone book, and instilled such a fear in me for the life of my son, that I wanted to flee with him to safety.
Fear thou not; for I am with thee; be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness (Isaiah 41:10).
No God, no peace. Know God, know peace
If Mary and Joseph had chosen to do it their way, then Perfection may not have entered the world. They were real human beings, not fictional story characters. They served the same God two thousand years ago that we serve today. They weren't perfect, nor are we. But God chose to use them anyhow. They didn't have to strive for perfection, they just had to obey and serve Perfection. Because they put God in charge of their lives and of that very first Christmas, the world was saved. Hope was born on that starlit night in Bethlehem. From the splendor of heaven was born a Savior in the squalor of a manger, so that we could know peace and forgiveness. Jesus was God's gift to humanity.
I like my world of bad hair days, collapsed soufflés, cluttered home, burned cookies, and the rough edges much better. It's what makes life interesting, and sometimes joy comes from the unexpected surprises of things gone wrong, "But one thing I do, forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus" (Phil. 3:13, 14).
This New Year, once again, I'm going to keep my eyes on the goal. I know that those who love me (you!) aren't concerned so much with the bird nest serving dishes and the hand-dipped candles as much as how much I care about you. I'm a real person, I live in a real world for a real God, and I've decided to accept my rough edges. I'm going to continue to let you see my imperfectness and strive to be myself through Jesus. If you don't see me administering justice, loving kindness, walking humbly, and allowing God to run my show, you will tell me, won't you? (Micah 6:8).
Blessings!
Shae
ã S. (Shae) A. Cooke 2005
