Good morning readers, all four of you. I'm sitting here this morning among the unfamiliar. Oh I have my fire going in the tiny little fireplace and I have my worship music in my ear buds so I do not disturb the children but the only familiar icons this Christmas are the steady Georgia rain pouring on the roof and the familiar brown elixir in my cup. Now, don't jump to any conclusions. In my cup this morning in the place of my usual cream laden coffee is a cocoa cola, also as iconic and as familiar to Georgia as peaches and peanuts.
Scattered about are a few other familiar items, my great grandmother's churn and various pottery jugs adorn the hearth, my aunt's antique tea table serves as a side table and my great grandmother's crescent side table is my new entry table. The only piece of furniture from my past life , my hall tree, creamy yellow, tall in the entrance of my hallway, is the only link to my previous life in this tiny little living room. The first Christmas gift bought for me by my husband for the new house we had dreamed of for so long and finally built in 2003. Every other piece is new to me. Even the tree and its trimmings are new this year. Once again the precious keepsake ornaments have been carefully and loving boxed away. It is still too painful to even unwrap them from their cocoons of dainty white tissue paper.
New furnishings, a new tiny, cozy cottage of a house, new decorations and as I sit here in the dimly lit morning I cannot help but ask the question, "how did I get here?'. Not just to this little house, but to this life that it now appears is mine. A life as unfamiliar to me as the surroundings in which I find myself. This was not the plan.
My "plan" was to watch my children grow up in that house along side their father. My plan including many family Christmases in that big 3000 square foot house, built by my design and with alot of the work being done ourselves. The plan included the two of us sitting in our porch swing watching children and grandchildren come and go, through the years to come. But Satan had a plan as well.
And so it has been all this season, my mind and heart have been focused on the unfamiliar. The things that come up into your life to disrupt the normal. The detours that take us down uncharted paths. The chaos that interrupts our plans.
In my mind's eye, I see poor Joseph. I see him sitting there in the dark, quiet of the stable. Mary lies at his feet, asleep from exhaustion in the soft clean straw he has just gathered for her. Cradled in her young, tiny arm, wrapped in scraps of cloth, sleeping soundly, seemingly and mercifully unaware of his destiny, the son of God, the Savior of the world, Emmanuel...God with us.
I would imagine this was a sleepless night for Joseph. The very presence of God, entrusted to his care. The look on his face one of excitement, bewilderment, fear, amazement, worry and worship all at the same time. I imagine his thoughts to be "how did I get here? "This was not the plan'
Suddenly, inconveniently just months before, his plans were interrupted and a new plan began.
" an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife; for the child who has been conceived in her is of the Holy spirit"" Matthew 1:20
A contemporary Christmas song was written years ago, it has always been one of my favorites. It's lyrics make the characters of the Christmas story seem so much more human. We tend to take our Biblical characters and give them superhero status. We forget that Joseph, the man, was just that...a man. And if Mary were here today in the same circumstances, DFACS surely would have started an investigation by now.
The lyrics to this simple song remind me that the stories we are so detached from involved humans just like us, people with doubts, fears, dreams, hopes, insecurities and chaos.
"why me? I'm just a simple man of trade
why Him, with all the rulers in the world?
Why here, inside this stable filled with hay?
Why her, she's just an ordinary girl?
Now I'm not one to second guess what angels have to say,
but this is such a strange way to save the world"
I identify with this Joseph, the one sitting there with his head in his hands trying to absorb and make sense of all that has transpired around him. I imagine it all felt so surreal to him. He had a plan. He had chosen his bride, as was customary to his people and was waiting out the time of courtship until the day of the wedding feast. In the midst of his planning and celebration, what seems like a sucker punch to the gut. His chosen one is pregnant, it is not his child. How did I get "here"? This was not the plan.
I will never be known as the mother who did everything right and that's okay, as long as my children remember me as the mother who did the right thing. It has not been easy. To tell the truth it has been down right hard. Every morning instead of having help to get two kids out the door, its just me. Every month, instead of two salaries to pay all the bills and provide for my little family, its just mine (and while there is a tiny amount of support that comes in each month, it is not nearly enough to touch our monthly expenses). Every time one of the kids over steps their boundaries, it is I alone, who determines the consequences of their actions and when they are sick it is I alone who nurses them back to health. Now I don't say all of that to gain sympathy or put myself on a pedestal. I am in far better shape than that of some single parents on the same path. I say it simply to say this, sometimes in life our road is chosen for us and our plan is altered not of our own choosing. But like Joseph, it is the man or woman who does the right thing that has my respect.
Joseph had a choice in all of this. His circumstances had been altered without him lifting a finger. Nothing he had done had brought him to this place. He could have walked away, he could have called off the wedding, for that matter, he could have had Mary killed, her punishment for betrayal could have been death. Yet poor Joseph was a Godly man, a man who when the Holy Father spoke to him, in the form of the angel Gabriel, chose to do what the Father asked.
And here tonight in this dark, cold, damp stable, smelling of animals and without what little comforts he would have had at home, the enormity of his earthly purpose must have shaken Joseph to his core. Can you imagine the weight that was on Joseph that night? I can. I can imagine just how overwhelming it all must have been for him. That among the blessing of being a part of the greatest story every told, the realization of his responsibility left him breathless.
When we envision the Biblical characters, we tend to forget that they too were made in the same image as we. It's easy for us to think that God told Abraham to sacrifice Issac and that Abraham had no questions, he just got up and took his son to the mountain. Or that God called Moses and that Moses, the man, didn't lay awake at night and wonder how this insurmountable task placed before him was going to come to fruition.
We sing Silent Night, Holy Night, however if we truly considered the circumstances, this night was anything but silent and holy. The little town of Bethlehem was not decorating in greenery and bows awaiting the birth of their Savior. It was a night like any other, busier than usual as the descendants of David crowded the streets from all over the realm of Herod's reign to be counted in the census. Telephones, internet and Travelocity were not in existence during this time and in this tiny town no reservations had been made in preparation. Like locusts, the droves of weary travelers descended upon a town ill prepared to accommodate them. This night would have been busy, bustling and noisy, first come first served, often is.
There was nothing Holy about this night either. We sit in our padded pews and pretty walls which we consider Holy and not unlike us, everything the people considered Holy during their time consisted in the gold and marble confines of the temples. The damp, musky, moldy and mildewed walls of the stable, most likely carved into the rocky hillside was in complete opposition to the opulent temples where the Holy One was thought to dwell.
Even the fact that the babe was wrapped in strips of cloth was a sign that the birth itself came more quickly than either expected. Had they been expecting his birth anytime soon, there would have been blankets and provisions, or had they had time to seek out family members or friends living in the village, there would have been a midwife to help with the delivery. And yet, in here in this small cave of a stable, among the dirt and the dung, sat Joseph, watching his young wife sleep, the son of God sleeping soundly beside her in a town that had no room for the one who came to save it inhabitants. This was not the plan.
It would not be far fetched to imagine that Joseph felt like a failure.
Joseph knew that his plan was not coming along as he had hoped.
We are quick to say that everything happens for a reason, and I do believe that this is true, but when you are the one walking this journey it is very difficult to remember this. You begin to believe it may be punishment. It is easy to allow the circumstances to overwhelm you. In the midst of your pain, it does not feel like a plan. It feels like chaos.
When your spouse chooses to leave, when the diagnosis comes, when your finances take a devastating blow, when death rears its ugly head, it does not feel like any plan you want to participate in. When well meaning people are quick to tell you that God had this in his plan all along, you begin wondering just how much does God hate you, that this would be His plan for you. When Jeremiah 29:11 is offered to you from those that are surely well intentioned, it is easy to think surely no good can come of this.
I can imagine Joseph sitting there in the cold dark night, travel weary and worn, afraid and overwhelmed. I can see him reach into the recesses of his mind for the promises from the scriptures that he would have set to memory in his youth. I can see the tears run down his dusty cheeks, falling in droplets to the dirt floor of the cave, asking the Father, "are you sure this is the plan?" Then quietly he stokes the small fire he has built, he gathers more small pieces of wood to keep the fire burning. He feels the brow of Mary to be certain she is well, he leans close to the small infant who now is his own and he listens for the tiny breaths like all new fathers do. He settles himself back down to watch over his new family and his choice is made.
This will not be easy, in fact, it will be hard. This will be tumultuous. It will not end well, most likely and yet like all the men of God he is descended from, he will be obedient to the call placed upon his life. Despite his questions, despite the lack of answers, in spite of his fears he will do the right thing. He will obey the voice of the Lord and trust that while this was not in his plans, the Father had set a plan in motion. One prayer, one act of obedience at a time the promise will unfold for Joseph and his little family.
And so dear friends, here we are, another Christmas. For many of us we find ourselves on journeys we did not plan. For many of us, the path we are on is not one we would have chosen and it is hard to see how good can come from our circumstances and that is okay for today. It is okay if we don't have it all figured out. It is okay to be human and feel what we feel.... our God understands this. He understands the doubt, the fears, the bewilderment we experience when our surroundings are unfamiliar to us. He understands the questions after all it is He who created us, formed in His image.
Our part of the plan? Like Joseph, to heed the voice of the Lord. To be obedient to His voice. To do what is right, when another path seems so much better and so much easier. To trust that ultimately, He, the Father, does have a plan of redemption for those who are faithful to His call. This morning I am overwhelmed by the knowledge that God will honor our obedience just as he did noble Joseph. The Glory of Heaven came to Earth, in human form, entrusted to a lowly carpenter for just a little while. An earthly father, chose do that which God deemed right, though it wasn't in his plans.
I will never be known as the mother who did everything right and that's okay, as long as my children remember me as the mother who did the right thing. It has not been easy. To tell the truth it has been down right hard. Every morning instead of having help to get two kids out the door, its just me. Every month, instead of two salaries to pay all the bills and provide for my little family, its just mine (and while there is a tiny amount of support that comes in each month, it is not nearly enough to touch our monthly expenses). Every time one of the kids over steps their boundaries, it is I alone, who determines the consequences of their actions and when they are sick it is I alone who nurses them back to health. Now I don't say all of that to gain sympathy or put myself on a pedestal. I am in far better shape than that of some single parents on the same path. I say it simply to say this, sometimes in life our road is chosen for us and our plan is altered not of our own choosing. But like Joseph, it is the man or woman who does the right thing that has my respect.
Joseph had a choice in all of this. His circumstances had been altered without him lifting a finger. Nothing he had done had brought him to this place. He could have walked away, he could have called off the wedding, for that matter, he could have had Mary killed, her punishment for betrayal could have been death. Yet poor Joseph was a Godly man, a man who when the Holy Father spoke to him, in the form of the angel Gabriel, chose to do what the Father asked.
And here tonight in this dark, cold, damp stable, smelling of animals and without what little comforts he would have had at home, the enormity of his earthly purpose must have shaken Joseph to his core. Can you imagine the weight that was on Joseph that night? I can. I can imagine just how overwhelming it all must have been for him. That among the blessing of being a part of the greatest story every told, the realization of his responsibility left him breathless.
When we envision the Biblical characters, we tend to forget that they too were made in the same image as we. It's easy for us to think that God told Abraham to sacrifice Issac and that Abraham had no questions, he just got up and took his son to the mountain. Or that God called Moses and that Moses, the man, didn't lay awake at night and wonder how this insurmountable task placed before him was going to come to fruition.
We sing Silent Night, Holy Night, however if we truly considered the circumstances, this night was anything but silent and holy. The little town of Bethlehem was not decorating in greenery and bows awaiting the birth of their Savior. It was a night like any other, busier than usual as the descendants of David crowded the streets from all over the realm of Herod's reign to be counted in the census. Telephones, internet and Travelocity were not in existence during this time and in this tiny town no reservations had been made in preparation. Like locusts, the droves of weary travelers descended upon a town ill prepared to accommodate them. This night would have been busy, bustling and noisy, first come first served, often is.
There was nothing Holy about this night either. We sit in our padded pews and pretty walls which we consider Holy and not unlike us, everything the people considered Holy during their time consisted in the gold and marble confines of the temples. The damp, musky, moldy and mildewed walls of the stable, most likely carved into the rocky hillside was in complete opposition to the opulent temples where the Holy One was thought to dwell.
Even the fact that the babe was wrapped in strips of cloth was a sign that the birth itself came more quickly than either expected. Had they been expecting his birth anytime soon, there would have been blankets and provisions, or had they had time to seek out family members or friends living in the village, there would have been a midwife to help with the delivery. And yet, in here in this small cave of a stable, among the dirt and the dung, sat Joseph, watching his young wife sleep, the son of God sleeping soundly beside her in a town that had no room for the one who came to save it inhabitants. This was not the plan.
It would not be far fetched to imagine that Joseph felt like a failure.
Joseph knew that his plan was not coming along as he had hoped.
We are quick to say that everything happens for a reason, and I do believe that this is true, but when you are the one walking this journey it is very difficult to remember this. You begin to believe it may be punishment. It is easy to allow the circumstances to overwhelm you. In the midst of your pain, it does not feel like a plan. It feels like chaos.
When your spouse chooses to leave, when the diagnosis comes, when your finances take a devastating blow, when death rears its ugly head, it does not feel like any plan you want to participate in. When well meaning people are quick to tell you that God had this in his plan all along, you begin wondering just how much does God hate you, that this would be His plan for you. When Jeremiah 29:11 is offered to you from those that are surely well intentioned, it is easy to think surely no good can come of this.
I can imagine Joseph sitting there in the cold dark night, travel weary and worn, afraid and overwhelmed. I can see him reach into the recesses of his mind for the promises from the scriptures that he would have set to memory in his youth. I can see the tears run down his dusty cheeks, falling in droplets to the dirt floor of the cave, asking the Father, "are you sure this is the plan?" Then quietly he stokes the small fire he has built, he gathers more small pieces of wood to keep the fire burning. He feels the brow of Mary to be certain she is well, he leans close to the small infant who now is his own and he listens for the tiny breaths like all new fathers do. He settles himself back down to watch over his new family and his choice is made.
This will not be easy, in fact, it will be hard. This will be tumultuous. It will not end well, most likely and yet like all the men of God he is descended from, he will be obedient to the call placed upon his life. Despite his questions, despite the lack of answers, in spite of his fears he will do the right thing. He will obey the voice of the Lord and trust that while this was not in his plans, the Father had set a plan in motion. One prayer, one act of obedience at a time the promise will unfold for Joseph and his little family.
And so dear friends, here we are, another Christmas. For many of us we find ourselves on journeys we did not plan. For many of us, the path we are on is not one we would have chosen and it is hard to see how good can come from our circumstances and that is okay for today. It is okay if we don't have it all figured out. It is okay to be human and feel what we feel.... our God understands this. He understands the doubt, the fears, the bewilderment we experience when our surroundings are unfamiliar to us. He understands the questions after all it is He who created us, formed in His image.
Our part of the plan? Like Joseph, to heed the voice of the Lord. To be obedient to His voice. To do what is right, when another path seems so much better and so much easier. To trust that ultimately, He, the Father, does have a plan of redemption for those who are faithful to His call. This morning I am overwhelmed by the knowledge that God will honor our obedience just as he did noble Joseph. The Glory of Heaven came to Earth, in human form, entrusted to a lowly carpenter for just a little while. An earthly father, chose do that which God deemed right, though it wasn't in his plans.
Joseph's Lullaby- Mercy Me
Thanks for sharing Shannon. I too am in a similar situation. Bless you dear heart for making a message out of a mess.
ReplyDeleteDear unknown, God bless you in this holiday season and this season of your life.
ReplyDelete