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Teaching -
Word Of The Week
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Written by Pastor Rebecca St. Louis
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Thursday, 25 December 2008 05:01 |
Someday I am hoping to find a Christmas card that shows the real deal.
Every year at this time, I become increasingly aware at how I have developed a sterile view of our Lord and His appearing and how He continues to challenge me by "appearing within the mess".
He did it from the beginning and continues to do it today...
My son was born on Christmas day of 2004. It was not a planned deal...an emergency c-section. I wasn't due until January 17th but some things were missed in an ultra sound and Christmas Eve, after celebrating with family, I began to hemorrhage.
Scary business... I had taken classes on breathing techniques and I had prepared my bag with the "essentials" of candles and soothing music to have a relaxing delivery. (Yes- insert your laughter here...) I thought I was prepared...until it started getting messy.
As I was calling the hospital from my bathroom, I could feel my son move in the womb in ways that I could tell he was not in distress but I also know what was happening was not "normal". Within an hour or two, I was lying in a hospital bed and nurses were prepping me for a c-section. The ultrasound showed that I had placenta previa and my son would be at risk unless I had him soon. My boy's father was on the phone with my parents and nearly passed out. He was attempting to give my folks directions to the hospital while my doctor was having me sign releases "in the event that anything went wrong". He overheard this conversation between the doctor and me, and I heard him say to my mom, "I am going to have to go now..." as he put his head down to catch his breath. I never did use a thing I packed in my bag for the hospital. This was not what I planned for. I thought I would be in a dimly lit room, but instead I was in surgery. I thought I would have candles and the music I provided, but instead the nurses were playing a Frank Sinatra album because they were tired of listening to Christmas music. I remember being strongly corrected by someone in attendance because I was trying to see past the "clean zone" because I wanted to witness the birth of my son. There was a moment of fear as they attended my son and he grunted instead of crying. He was whisked away to an incubator to receive medical care. There were 10 days in the NICU while my boy grew in strength to be able to feed, maintain his body temperature and give him the lung development he needed. Today I have a strong and healthy son. He is taller than most his age and smarter than a whip. He's cheeky too. When people ask about his birthday, I like to announce that he is the most wonderful Christmas present I have ever had unwrapped by a surgeon.
I can't help but think at Christmas of the birth of my son. It changed my life.
I also can't help but think about Mary and Joseph and our silly, sterile, pictures that are so neat and tidy on our Christmas cards that we send to one another. I have pictures of me right after my son was born and I look beautifully horrible. My son's father looks exhausted and I can detect a weird mixture of panic and relief that are in his expression at the same time. Mary... I now imagine her sweaty and dirty, part from the travels, part from the birthing process. It would have been messy. There would be sweat, tears, and blood all mixed in with dirt and hay. She would be exhausted and look beautiful horrible. Her hair would be a wreck, her face would be calm and relieved it is all over. I picture Joseph rubbing her extremely swollen feet. He is doing this because he is dumbfounded and there is a lack of knowledge as to what else he can do at this moment. He has that look of panic and relief. He doesn't look like the Josephs from the cards we send. No friends, he looks more like a man that just got too much of an education. He was a carpenter's son...not a farmer. It is very well that he was not that prepared to be a midwife at this time and he now the one responsible for what he has been told by angels is the Son of God. No pressure, right? Now I am going to be in charge of raising the Son of God and the only thing I can provide for him now is an animal slobbered crib with some hay and a blanket. My boy was born into a sterile environment, Christ was not.
He was born into mess. Where animals feed, they also make waste.
Jesus was born into this mess with beasts and stink and sweat and fear and he transformed that manger and mess into the Temple of God. Sound familiar? Don't be afraid of your current mess.
Do not shrink back from what you believe is "unsightly". Do not think something is wrong if you think life is stinky.
It's Christmas...
The time when we remember how God showed up into this mess not to clean it up, but to be fully God and fully man. A beautiful mess...
Have Yourself a Messy Little Christmas!
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