One of our favorite holiday traditions is one that we stumbled upon without meaning to several years ago.

It was Thanksgiving weekend and we had just finished decorating our Christmas tree (a real one, none of this fake tree business) and I was exhausted from all the work entailed with lugging boxes out of storage and finding enough working white lights to cover an 8 ft. tree.  The kids were hungry and I didn’t have enough time or energy to prepare a real meal so I threw together a cheese & cracker plate.  I pulled out a few veggies and some dip and then warmed up some leftover frozen pizza rolls in the oven.  We had a bottle of Welch’s sparkling grape juice and all together, it made up our dinner that night.

The Christmas lights were twinkling and casting a beautiful golden glow in our living room that none of us wanted to miss. So instead of sitting at our dining table I scoured the dark recesses of my cabinets and found some old holiday paper plates and napkins and we made ourselves a little makeshift picnic right there next to the light of our tree.  We huddled together on the floor around our little repurposed black coffee table and Aaron started sharing favorite Christmas memories. Soon he was asking the kids to share and before we knew it, we realized something special was happening.  It was the beauty of the tree that drew us in but the sharing of our stories that kept us there.  That night was like a wonderful gift hand delivered to us, completely unexpected and somewhat magical.

Now, almost 7 years later, it is one of the traditions we most look forward to.  Every year, the weekend after Thanksgiving, we chop down our tree, drag it home, decorate it and then settle in for appetizers and stories by white lights.

Sometimes the most meaningful things happen without any preparation at all. 

This season is full of planned parties, festivities and menus.  And that’s not bad.  There is a lot to be said for putting thought and detail into something and planning it out ahead of time.  I love to have people in my home when we’ve scheduled it and I have the time to clean my house and plan a great menu.  I love to set a beautiful table and make my guests feel special.  But I have to tell you that some of the most life giving conversations that have taken place in my house, some of the most wonderful memories that have been made, have occurred when friends have dropped by unannounced.  With no expectations and zero preparation on my part.  Holy conversations have been held with crumbs on my counter and dirt on my floor.

In this busy season of scheduled everything, don’t be afraid to rogue once in a while.  To toss a schedule or two to the wind, and to just show up.  Somewhere.  Perhaps for someone.  There is beauty in the unannounced visit.  There is healing in the unexpected word of encouragement.  There is grace for the moment, whether you’ve planned for it or not.

A prayer: Father, teach us to make room in our schedule for you. We ask for your wisdom and guidance in our decisions.  May you use us in unplanned ways to speak love and hope into the lives around us.  May we experience more holy moments in the middle of our days. 

Firstborns are special.

I say that not because I am a firstborn but because of how I felt when I held my first child.

I remember that nervous yet exhilarating feeling of having his tiny little body placed into my arms for the very first time.  He was wrapped up tight in a blanket and I was undone.  The depth of my love for him was so intense and so immediate; it took me by surprise.  Suddenly, and almost without warning, I realized I would do anything for this child of mine.  Not only had I given birth, but something had been birthed inside of me.  A desire to love and protect this little life at any cost.

I imagine that Mary felt the same way.  Although she didn’t have an adjustable bed and big fluffy pillows behind her as she drank in the first few hours of her son’s life, I can imagine she felt those same feelings of intense love and fierce devotion.

Parental love—and fear—is an authentic and tangible universal language.

I can’t help but wonder how Mary managed those fears as she watched her little boy mature into a young man.  I wonder if she lost sleep worrying about him and his future.  I wonder if she ever felt not enough at times, questioning whether she was equipped for the monumental task of motherhood.  All of her time, energy and love poured out into this life that would ultimately lay itself down for us all.

The precious gift she had been given would eventually be a gift for all mankind.  A gift of love, quite literally, as 1 John tells us that “God IS love.”

In our earthly understanding of love, one of our best representations is that between mother and child.  It is bond so strong that it gives us a small glimpse into the immeasurable depth of love that God has for each of us.  Paul tells us in Ephesians 3 that he prays that we will have the power to understand the greatness of Christ’s love—how wide, how long, how high, and how deep that love is.

We serve a God who gives us small daily reminders of that love.  From a child’s laugh to the warmth of a loved one’s hand, these are reflections of His love for us.  As we gather this holiday season with family and friends may we sense, more deeply, the greatness of Christ’s love for us.  May we catch another glimpse of the height and depth of His love and may it secure within us a sense of trust so we can walk in confidence of the love He has, not only for us, but also for the world.

A prayer:  Father, we thank You today for the gift of Your Son.  We thank You for the blessings You have given us in the form of our children.  Father, continue to teach us more about Your love.  Help us to walk in the love You have for us, and helps us give that same love to those around us.  We acknowledge that our confidence comes from being secure in the immeasurable love You have for each of us.