Clamor for More
I love Christmas. All of it. I love finding the biggest tree we can at the tree farm, cutting it down and lugging it home. I love cheesy songs, peppermint flavored things, dogs in Christmas collars, twinkle lights, and Christmas pageants. I’ll admit though, I love it to the point where I often end up limping into the new year. I try too hard, I run too quickly, and I attempt to control way too much.
And so, each year I take another step towards letting go of control and leaning in to the wonder before me instead.
About 9 years ago, I handed over the reins of organizing our nativity manager at home. Step one in ceding some control. This was a hard one. My mom gave me this nativity set when we first moved into our home and it’s very precious to me. I also had a particular vision in my head for how the little shepherds and angels should be rowed-up, the whereabouts of the cow and donkey, and the placement of baby Jesus. Don’t even get me started on the best angles for Mary and Joseph.
The first year I handed my youngest, Lucy, the nativity box she eyed it with careful wonder. She was only 4 but understood the gravity of the moment. She took ages taking each character out and examining them. She turned them over, again and again, to see what they were all about. Then she took even longer considering where they each should go. I could see the contemplation and curiosity whirling in her head.
She was holding the story with her hands and heart.
She was experiencing, not just hearing, the nativity. In the quiet space of her own heart and the grip of her pudgy toddler fingers, she took the time to think what it must have been like for Mary, Joseph, the wisemen, the angels, the shepherds, and the animals. She did not think about what it looked like from the outside, but what it must have felt like being in it.
She put baby Jesus in the middle of a crowded circle. She pushed all of the characters as close to the baby as she could. There was no order. They did not line up neatly. Instead, they crowed in. Enthralled. Engaged. Clamoring for another look at this tiny child.
That’s how Lucy saw this holy moment. A jumble of marveling participants.
Lucy had come to a single conclusion – none of them could get enough. They couldn’t get close enough. They couldn’t take their eyes off of the baby. Neither could she. My tiny child taught me so much that day with her inquisitive mind and great big heart. She felt the wonder of the moment in the manager, not as a spectacle, but as something to experience and engage in.
It was simple to her – who wouldn’t want to see more?
Gaze upon the love that came down for us.
Clamor to see more.
Be present and enthralled by the love that has no boundaries and holds no limits.
Be with God this Christmas. Just like Lucy showed me.
Eyes focused. Heart centered. Leaning in.