Christmas Treasure
Do you ever feel like your Christmas and Advent celebrations slowly devolve into ‘throw spaghetti at the wall and see what sticks’ scenarios?’
While I would love to create Hallmark card memories for my two young daughters, reality always worms its way into my well-laid plans. The clock ticks to find and wrap the perfect presents. We rush to see a large man in red only to find endless lines and realize that our child possesses zero desire to even wave at the jolly stranger. The dollhouse arrives as a “build-it-yourself” model with roughly two-hundred pieces. The homemade cookies are a bit crispier than intended and icing coats both the floor and my children’s sticky hands. The twinkling lights seem to think they are intended for a rave. Our advent wreath inevitably ends up in the one box we cannot find. Lastly, our lovely book of daily readings sits untouched for days at a time as we juggle Christmas parties, festive events, and family in town.
My beautifully nostalgic, idealized Advent quickly slips through my fingers until I am left praying that my children took in enough of our (far from) daily advent readings to remember the true heart of Christmas lies not in the eagerly awaited presents but the birth of our Savior.
I long for my children to love this time of year; I want their every memory of Christmas to be ringed in the soft light of hope and love. This time of year deserves to be magical, and I often find myself striving to make it so through both the world’s definition of holiday cheer as well as Advent’s miraculous message. Yet, these herculean attempts at creating perfect celebrations often leave me feeling overwhelmed and flustered.
Perhaps, for some of us, enjoying the celebrations of Christmastime poses deeper issues. Past Christmases may not have met our hopes for love and goodwill. Or Christmas may hold a difficult reminder of loss, loneliness, or grief, of missing someone who used to be there for these special occasions. For so many, Christmas can easily become a balancing act of expectations and reality.
This was my state of mind last Christmas as we lit our advent candles on Christmas day and worked our way through the readings we had missed and the Christmas story. In a moment that will live on in our treasured family stories for decades, my three-year-old proclaimed loudly and with great pride: “You know, I was presented at the temple when I was a baby.” The table was silent for a full five heartbeats before I said, “What do you mean, sweet girl?” She ran over to the picture we have framed from her baptism, pointed enthusiastically, and said “See! I was presented at the temple like Jesus! After I was born, I was presented at the temple just like Him!” Amazed laughter rippled around the table as we all took in what had just been stated.
Mary Beth Keenan, @mb_keenan.15.
Some strands of my desperately thrown spaghetti had stuck, and my sweet daughter was starting to grasp the miracle of our connections to Christ through the incarnation. The miracle that Christ came to earth and was born a baby. That He willingly came into our world of mess, hurt, and upended expectations to live as fully human and fully God, all in order to save us through death on the cross. And that He came in the most unexpected of ways, not as a triumphant king but as a helpless baby, born to a young mother whose own plans were turned upside down. A mother whose first Christmas redefined the world, and who greeted the sweet mystery of the birth of the Savior with love.
From the moment Gabriel appeared to Mary, she must have known that any plans for a normal, predictable life were shattered. Mary’s expectations for her life and family were thrown into disarray when she learned of her pregnancy with Christ. She communicates this confusion and upheaval when she asks Gabriel “how can that be, for I am a virgin?” An understandable question given that she has just been told she will give birth and there does seem to be a vital step missing in this scenario. And yet, amidst the uncertainty of the road ahead, Mary accepts her role in the miracle of Christ’s incarnation with a heart open to the wonder and turmoil that lay ahead. Mary enters into this beautiful, unexpected, journey of faith with trust in her God, regardless of the plans she had laid for herself.
Though presumably far from what Mary had in mind for birth, the first Christmas was still perfect, holy, and beautiful. Whether you believe that Mary experienced physical pain in childbirth or was spared from this, I think we can all agree that traveling far from family and friends, finding there are no rooms available, then lodging in a stable, creates a less than ideal birth scenario.
The presence of livestock, a manger as a crib, and a post-birth visit from nearby shepherds (who likely smelled similarly to their sheep), create a picture that has me wincing for Mary. Birth practices were different back then, but a clean room, cozy pallet, and basic privacy seem like reasonable requests for any mother.
Yet, we are told in Luke 2:19 that Mary pondered and treasured these things in her heart; not that she endured them, or muddled through them, but treasured them. From the start, Mary accepted that her son’s birth would be miraculous and different than she could have imagined or expected. Instead of quaking in fear or begrudging her situation, Mary opened her heart to what God had to offer her and found the treasure waiting within. As a chronic overthinker and planner, I deeply appreciate that Mary “pondered” these events. Though the ordeal of birth was doubtlessly overwhelming, Mary still took note of all that had occurred, thought on it, and hid it away in her heart with love, as treasure. That first Christmas provides us with the most miraculous story of handling upended hopes and expectations with an open heart and hands.
As we move forward into our Advent and Christmas celebrations, my prayer for each of us is that amidst our balancing acts of expectations and reality, we call to mind the example of Mary. A young woman whose expectations were turned upside down and whose reality was far messier, miraculous, and beautiful than she could have possibly imagined. And as we ponder the miracle of Christ’s birth within the hectic swirl of our own Christmastime expectations, may we, like Mary, open our hearts to our own moments of treasure and unexpected joy, remembering that ultimate treasure that Mary cradled so long ago: Christ.
Meet Alli Bobzien
Alli makes her home in Houston, TX with her husband and their two sweet, spunky daughters. She is blessed to spend her days as a full-time mom and a part-time graduate student finishing up her master’s in Theology at Fuller Seminary, focusing on Disability Theology. Alli can usually be found with her girls either in the backyard making mud pies or in the kitchen baking real pies.
Her love of reading and writing is only rivaled by her love for her friends and family; give her a cozy mug of coffee with a good book or a board game with some dear friends and she’ll be blissfully happy. Alli cares deeply for her family and hopes to use her writing to serve other women and families through encouraging their journeys of faith. You can find her writing on Instagram @bobz.alli.