Making the Best of Things

A year ago, Jeff and I packed our things into a truck and left Mustard Seed Ranch. We took the long, bumpy ride down the mountain, stacked most everything into a storage unit and moved into a one bedroom, one bath apartment with our two adult sons. It was a moment to ponder. To wonder what God was doing.

The wall between the living/dining room and bedroom was paper thin. There were maybe 3 or 4 channels on the TV and no internet service, except in one corner of the bedroom where it was occasionally possible to rob a neighbor’s signal. There was a Diedrich’s Coffee in the neighborhood, however, with free wireless. I spent many a morning there. Jeff and I also went to the gym everyday. He rode the recumbent bike—easy on the back, while I huffed and puffed on the elliptical trainer and lifted light weights.

The little maple-stained table that I had bought at a yard sale for $15 back in New Jersey, and which has served us well for many years, was stuck in front of the wall heater between the kitchen area, the living area and the front door. I pulled it into the middle of the room for Christmas Eve dinner, before the beautiful service at the church pictured above.

I don’t know why, but last Christmas stands out as a precious one to me.

I’ve been wondering about this because I’ve been reading humbug stories in various places. People are depressed; they hate the holiday season; can’t wait for it to be over. I confess, I don’t really get it. I’ve had a long time to get this problem because one member of our extended family has often been depressed at Christmas, often throws a pall over the celebration. This I’ve analyzed. I think it’s about expectations, and particularly, about conflicting expectations crashing into each other. If we’d all just let go of our expectations and take what comes, we’d be able to enjoy ourselves. Maybe this year.

There’s something else, however.

Last night I figured out why I enjoy the Christmas season no matter if we are living in plenty or want, no matter if one of my children is not well. It’s because of two things: the visceral understanding that this is the only chance at life I get and the fact that I am deeply loved.

I am CELEBRATING this Christmas. Why? Because of Immanuel—God with us. King of Glory. Prince of Peace. Lord of Lords. Immanuel. God with us! Welcomed into a world of infanticide, with angels overhead. Singing. To shepherds.

Immanuel infuses life with his presence, his joy, his power, his peace, his glory. God with us. King of glory.

Immanuel and the love of Jeff. That’s enough for me. Should I ever face Christmas without my sweetheart, well, then I might better understand struggling to overcome the sadness of life at Christmas. Not this year, Lord willing.

I learned a long time ago to make the best of things. Instead of pining away for what you don’t have, embrace what’s right in front of you this Christmas and always. For his glory and your delight. Amen.

“Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel.“ (Isaiah 7:14, NKJV)

[photo ©cas 2007, St. James Church, Newport Beach, CA]