What do you get when you combine five little boys who have had no rhythm or routine to their days for a week, loads of wrapping paper and new construction toys, a 12 week old puppy, and a mommy who is exhausted from all the cooking and preparing for Christmas celebrations? Let's just say the possibility of bringing in a Hazmat team has not been ruled out. Two days ago what we had was a Christmas miracle. Today what we have is a grand mess.
Add to that my sister-in-law and her family arrive from Houston tomorrow to begin another round of celebrations and that my husband, who celebrates his birthday on New Year's Eve, has decided to celebrate by roasting a pig...a whole one...here...at....my.....house.
Yesterday I vowed that today was the day. The house would get cleaned, the laundry would get done, the toys would get organized, the kids would get bathed (and maybe even the mom), the puppy would get on a schedule and the kids would go to bed at a reasonable hour without the television blaring messages of over-stimulation and hyper-activity in their ears. Today we would eat healthy and GET IT TOGETHER.
And then I remembered...it's still Christmas. Until the wise men arrive bearing their gifts, it's still Christmas. And while we definitely should tidy up some and get some laundry done, and by all means turn off the TV and get that puppy on a schedule, it should not be at the expense of the joy of the season. We did, in fact, celebrate a miracle only two short days ago. A baby born in a manger came to save the world--came to save us. His little life made it possible for us to live together in eternity. That, my friends, deserves a full two weeks of joyous celebration. Ordinary time will soon be upon us. Let us not wish it here too soon. Let's give that little baby all the celebration we can muster. It's still Christmas.
It's still the season to relax the rules for the sake of celebration. It's still the season to step over the toys on the floor and gather the little ones on the sofa to gaze upon the face of their little Saviour, to cuddle up with beautiful books and sing the hymns of joy. I have made myself a promise as I started laundry and began picking up today. I will not wish it away. I will not tire myself with relentless lists and what I wish I could get done. I will not be grumpy about what Christmas asks of me. I will not be annoyed that my Saviour's birth begs celebration and that it requires some extra work from me. I will not let my mind turn the miracle of Christmas into one grand mess. If the only gift I can give today is a cheerful heart as I bustle about trying to balance my duty to my home and family with my duty to allow the celebration to continue, then I will give it gladly.
But in order to do so, I need to pray. I need to spend a quiet moment gazing on that Holy Face in the manger, welcoming Him into our world, into my home, into my heart, and begging Him to take root in my children's hearts. I need to beg Him for the quiet grace His mother showed during that first Christmas. There is no nativity set where Mary is stomping around with a mop while the shepherds look at Jesus. She is always right there, smiling peacefully, pointing at her newborn son, the Saviour of the world. Today I pray she will help me do the same for all who enter my home during the Christmas season. May I find a peaceful joy that points the way to the babe we celebrate for the next couple of weeks, and may He find a welcome worthy of His love.