The fragrance is pungent. It is a mixture of hay, leather and animal feces. It was a respite from a long and weary journey where the scent of doubt crept in. Was it the external circumstances that etched the road? Pregnant, unmarried, without a home and wandering on a lowly donkey, a teenage girl could only rely on faith. And, for her companion who stood beside on the mire trail, was it the internal road that clarified or confused the circumstances? He listened to the words of God through an angel and together they stumbled forward in trust and hope to a lowly stable to rest their weary heads. They could only look up - toward the anticipation of something greater.
The wait Proverbs 3:5-6 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. In our own toils and circumstances it is easy to adorn the external with the wrappings of a holiday, particularly when things are going well - jobs, neighborhoods, relationships, home, church, country but what if things are not going as planned? Mary and Joseph arrive from a journey in the midst of a crowd. A crowd, who otherwise, had lives of their own in a busy, bustling community. It is in the midst of people that they seek respite from the brewing noise outside to the quiet and still stench of a stable where together they rely on the path God had set.
Both Mary and Joseph were human. They were flawed individuals in the midst of a crowd and yet God chose them to carry a blessing deep within the fabric of their souls. Did they pray? Did they hope? Did they doubt God's plan? I have to imagine they wrestled with faith as we all do. My religious background, deeply embedded in me both a sense of spiritual awe and fear. I've got the "anything bad that happens must somehow be my fault" thread. Guilt, condemnation and the not wanting to disappoint tangled in a ball of lights. Mingled too, however, are the bulbs of faith - God's word, His promises and the hope wrapped in a baby. The culture has shifted but the frailty of humanity has not. A young teenage girl and a boy slipping quietly away from the people they would disappoint. The circumstances that pointed to a failed life. Did they toil with the elements of self-condemnation or walk with total assurance of God's love? We quickly brush over the miraculous story of Christmas in exchange for a feeling of Christmas. It was in the wait and anticipation of something far greater that faith grew. God's lens was in the journey. It was a faith to trust his plan, a hope that He would be faithful to get us through and a deep and authentic love in an intimate, intertwined relationship of the father, son and holy ghost. A star On Sunday, I traveled from sunny, blue skies to dark and ominous smoke filled ones. It was eerie and as close to the movie setting of an apocalypse that I could imagine. The bright sunlight was replaced with warm, putrid gusts of forbidding air. It was almost as dark as night. The lighting was an abnormal, haunted one that allowed the proponents of dread to fill the space as thick as the smoke that enveloped it. The roads were sparse. The song of birds was mysteriously missing. Small children were wearing masks while holding the hand of an adult. The wind whipping their hair in a menacing movement of air. With my daughter and a small dog, we traveled toward (not away) from the storm that loomed. The ash that fell rekindled all sorts of scripture verses in my head. I grappled toward the respite of life and love. We were 75 miles away from danger and yet the affects of the fire was as clear as the rain that could douse it. More disarming were the words that penetrated my mind. Less than a week before, I sought the community of prayer in a healing room here where the image of fire and the revival of faith kindled the image of Christmas and yet, now, I stood in the smoke-filled air of doubt and confusion. No wonder God placed a bright star in a dark night to point the three wise men to Bethlehem where the savior in a baby was to be found. It was outside the noise and confusion of people hunting down a hope. It was in the obedience of a message to bring the elements of frankincense and myrrh - the oils to soften the road that lie ahead. The miracle of Christmas is as much about the people that trusted the light to guide them as it was about the baby to be born. together, they represented the wooden beams of a cross What of the fragrance of hay, leather and animal feces found in a stable outside the crowds of a bustling community? Yes, the journey had been on a donkey wandering away from the family and friends they knew and loved but through God's eyes, the more important one was the road traveled deep within their souls. They had hours of quiet reflection leading up to this moment of Christmas were the tangled lights of doubt, obedience, fear and trust were being unwoven into one string of illumination. So still, I would imagine, after the pangs of childbirth that a peace like a comforter wrapped them into the gracious gift of provision. Conceive for a moment, a still that was so quiet you could hear the rustling of a mouse under tender branches, the sight of the miracle of life held in human hands and the scent of earth and sky to lighten the darkest internal skies. The star pointed the three wise men to Bethlehem as clearly as a brilliant star-studded sky points us now to the quiet, provision of God's love.
I find comfort in the story of Christmas - the human condition of disappointment, failure, sin, temptation and doubt because in the journey, there is also found the ribbons of love, grace, forgiveness, hope and eternal life ... all wrapped in the arms of a father and his son. The longer I live and the more I reach into another person's story, the more I see joy, provision and peace mixed with struggle, hurt and loss. For so long, I have wrestled with why I think the way I do; I have fought the deepest parts of me forgetting he had and has a plan in the unfolding of a story. It is the human condition where sometimes we are the bustling crowd and sometimes the lone soul in a stable reaching through the noise toward the quiet and still sound of a whisper - drawing hope through the light cracking through wooden planks. I took the above picture of a gift I made for my daughter on her recent twenty-first birthday. Vintage vinyl records (some new and some old) to be un-wrapped over twenty-one days. What if this Christmas, we each imagine God's provisions wrapped in vintage albums for us - the gifts yet to be opened. It is the feeling of Christmas - the anticipation of something far greater. May you, too, hear the distant and quiet sleigh bells of his love in a humble manger ... and believe. May this Christmas, bring you faith in the quiet still night of your soul where the trail is an unwrapping of a great story - yours. ... and may you find peace and joy along the way.
Proverbs 3:5-6 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.
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AuthorA fellow point guard for the faith; a writer, deep thinker, music loving, jeep blazing ... follower of Jesus. Archives
June 2019
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