We all long for home, especially at Christmas.
The home we hope for is the one of our hearts, the very best
idea of home. This may not match the picture we had growing up, or the one we
see on TV. We long for the home of deep sanctuary, the one that glows from within,
casting warm lights on our faces. The home that allows us to set all our
troubles down and find the nourishment of loving company, feasting and
laughter.
I was lucky enough to have this kind of home growing up. If
you were to look at the surface of the circumstances, you would disagree. My
mom was divorced with five children and not working, which meant Christmas was
always full of guilt. We lived in a broken down Victorian home that never put
out enough heat to feel any sort of warmth. We never ever had enough money to
get Christmas together in any sort of style – it was always ramshackle, last
minute and chaotic.
Despite all those crazy circumstances, I think about those
holidays as a kid with wonder. The food, the gifts, the decorations – everything
was pretty unremarkable. None of the material things stand out. What fills me
with wonder is how we had nothing and yet we had everything. I remember the
funny conversations, the times spent together, the laughter, the cooking
contests – attending Christmas Eve services and loving the beauty and
simplicity of an old church decorated with simple pine boughs. What made those
Christmases great was the fact that we enjoyed all we had – each other.
Every holiday as a grown up, I try so hard to re-create that
magic. I read magazine after magazine about meaningful Christmas holidays,
recipes and activities. But when I think about it, it really is simple. It’s
paying attention – to each other, to the moment, to the beauty all around you.
It’s quietly letting go of every guilty demand. It sounds simple, and it can
be, if we let it. Stop. See. Smell. Treasure.
As part of the holidays, I love to read the Christmas story
from the Bible. Many people love the part about the angels belting out praises
or the shocked shepherds or the wise men showing up. My favorite part comes at
the very end – it almost seems insignificant, but to me, it is everything. In
Luke 2:19 (NIV) it says “But Mary
treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”
Mary could have been thinking about a lot of things. She
just gave birth – she could have been thinking “where is my mother-in-law to
help out?” or “why couldn’t I be sleeping in a real bed?” But through it all,
Mary treasured. Not exactly a magazine-style Christmas. If Mary, despite all
these crazy circumstances, could still focus on the joy of it all, what about
me?
This is the secret of Christmas. When we want to feel guilt,
think of Mary. When we want to be stressed, stop and treasure. When we want to
get angry or think it’s about one more thing we have to do, it’s time to stop
and adore.
Mary gives us the secret to Christmas. It is finding true home and to treasure
it all up in your heart.
