The Three Hundred Fifty-Four Day of 2023

Gentle Reader,

Advent and Christmas are my favorite seasons in the Church. When I was a small girl, my dad bundled up me and my little brother and took us outside on a cold, cloudless night. I remember the reflection of the pale moonlight on the snow and the silhouette of the pine trees illuminated by the weak light above the back steps of our home. That light didn’t extend too far into the yard. Even though we played outside all the time, I stayed close to my dad. The yard didn’t feel as safe as it did during the day.

He pointed up into the sky and told us to find the brightest star. I have no idea what star I was looking at, or even if we were all looking at the same one. But as my brother and I scanned the velvety, black expanse, our breath gathering in clouds above our faces, my dad told us about the star, the shepherds, and the wise men with their gifts. He explained that God put that star in the sky to announce the birth of Jesus, the One and Only Savior. 

It’s a moment I’ll never forget.

This Advent hasn’t has much Advent about it to me. A whole lot of stress the last few weeks. My mom’s mastectomy went very well, and I thank God for it! But I was worried about her. Worried, too, about other family members who had to go through medical tests and check-ins for different things. They’re all okay, and I thank God for that, too! But now I am exhausted. Our lead pastor just announced that he’s been called to another congregation. I thank God that he is being obedient to the travel that road that God has him on! But now I am worried again.

I think the wise men (or Magi) felt that combination of worry and gratitude and exhaustion as they followed the star toward Christ. I don’t know exactly what they understood about God. Maybe they were polytheists, trying to please multiple deities. Maybe they knew that the God written about in the texts left behind by the Jewish people during their years in exile is the only God. They certainly understood that the star meant something, and that they needed to go and give their offerings to the King to whom it pointed. Their faith and knowledge may have been muddled, it may have been weak, but it existed.

Maybe you’re muddled and weak today. Maybe you’re looking at a Christmas tree and wondering where the joy and the magic of the season is. It’s okay that you don’t quite feel it. Remember the little drummer boy who had no gift to give a king? All he could do was play the best song he could. While I doubt that a woman who’s just given birth would appreciate the noise of a drum solo, the point stands: Just give God yourself. Wherever and however and whoever you are. You will be met with grace.

Step outside tonight. Tip your head back and look up at the stars. Your worry, gratitude, and exhaustion are felt by others past and present.

But God is still here.

God is Emmanuel.

With us.

GRACE AND PEACE ALONG THE WAY,

MARIE

Image Courtesy of Christopher Jolly