“Christmas says that we have everything going [for us] — Jesus, the journey and the dream.”
Brennan Manning
Something feels different this year. It’s a little difficult to put my finger all the way on it, but as I sung some of my very favorite carols yesterday morning — O Holy Night, I never get over you — I felt the joy rising, and I was singing so loud in the pew, and I couldn’t help myself.
I wasn’t thinking about how much I have left to do or when will we get our tree or what I will buy for so-and-so. I wasn’t seeing this season so much as a destination, but as a journey.
For Mary and Joseph took a long journey, from an angel’s proclamation to the potential for disgrace to a dream to that stable on a long ago night. Mary, swollen with life, jostled on a donkey’s back and then gave birth with only her husband to attend her.
Wednesday morning I held the mystery and then belted it out, the reason I sing.
I sing for my Jesus.
The One who freed me from self-despising and wounds cutting deep and the unending quest to be perfect, who delivers me again and again from my mistakes and my worry and my striving and who reminds me I am loved, even when I feel undeserving. Yes, especially then.
Yesterday morning while I proclaimed the deliverance loud with my voice, I also held deep the tenderness of that God man.
The one who willingly came as the most vulnerable of earthly beings to identify with our fragility, who came into the most humble of stations to proclaim the upside down beauty of the poor and forgotten, the one who came to proclaim life while he lay down his own.
I was thinking of Emanuel, God with Us.
And these truths are the same as they have been and will be forever, so I’m wondering what is different this year?
Perhaps it’s partly in choosing to receive the still and the wait.
Partly in my desire working its way out from the inside to choose first, joy, and not anxiety this Advent, this season of coming.
Maybe it’s the little things like allowing Christmas carols to wash over me and choosing to hear them new, though fall branches still grace the corners of my house, and there’s nary an evergreen bough in sight. Maybe it’s in seeing the miraculous little red berries on the tree outside and the imperfect picture of them as decoration enough for today.
Maybe it’s the intention to give my presence and not stuff. Maybe it’s sitting on the couch to read a Christmas book with my girls or laugh hard with them, while my old self’s scream — “Look at this place…there’s so much to do!” — fades slowly into the background.
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Each night, as we light the candles, we remember the light that pierced darkness and does again and again. The light that breaks through the dark of this world. The big wide world. And also the darkness of me, of my expectations, my judgments, my selfishness, my attempts to perform well enough, at any cost.
When we light the candles, we are remembering the hope, the dream, the story.
Yes, we are remembering Jesus.
And when I freak out over a dropped ornament or a white elephant forgotten or a grumbling attitude when I want it to be perfect, dangit, I will try to remember the simplicity of the baby in rags in the hay and the one who came to settle in the midst of my mess, too.
This mess right here.
And I will try to recall the one who came for the vulnerable, the tired and weary, the broken and breaking, even when that’s me.
When the world screams, buy, do, more, more, faster, faster, my heart will choose again to receive the newborn king and the glad tidings of comfort and joy and, ah, still.
And I will proclaim that good news to myself, the good news to you if you’ll listen. Of light breaking through dark, of peace for the chaos, of rescue for the hurting, of the jubilee and the holy night filled with great wonder and joy.
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Linking up today with Emily Wierenga and Imperfect Prose.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
As always, your words are filled with beauty, truth and such applicable wisdom. Thank you for sharing these things this advent and always.
So blessed by you, Sis. Thanks for the laugh in the midst of the hard, too. I needed that.
Oh ASHLEY, (that’s me using my loud computer voice) you drip Advent joy and peace just like your precious tree which bears fruit…. you bear much beautiful fruit. You art, your writing, your voice and your eyes fixed on Jesus that add up to a beauty package. I am resting in this and going back for a re-read friend. HMMM, so good…so so good.
I LOVE YOUR LOUD COMPUTER VOICE! :-) Thank you, Elizabeth. Thank you for coming here with your love, encouragement and presence. You are a gift to me.
Sweet Ashley — you share so beautifully and I thank you for the blessings your journal is to me. I am not able to read every time you post….but when I do it’s just as though God chose your thoughts that day to minister to my soul. I’m also trying to think of ‘presence’ importance rather than stuff. Your comment about the fall colors not yet morphed into bare branches and the lack of green….makes me think of what was printed on a card our family used many Christmases ago. I chose it because that had been a different year for us and the words caused me to center and focus again: “No matter what….Christmas will always be Christmas….and Jesus will always be Lord !” My prayer for you and your family is that this King Jesus of ours will ever be the ‘perfect’ piece of your Christmas. And I’m asking Him to keep your heart pounding out on the keyboard to bless the rest of us in our new year ! Sending Medford hugs your way…mary
Sweet Mary, thank you for your presence here. Your words are a gift to me. And the words of that card — what a perfect sentiment in regards to keeping our perspective. Merry Christmas to you and your family, too, and thank you for your prayers!
Oh, Ashley
What can I say!! Remember always, that in your Pappa’s eyes you’re are perfect and just perhaps He wants you to sit with Him the way you do with your girls and just spend time with Him… He came for the weak, the poor, the lost…..not for the perfect ones (not that there is any). Thank you for this glimpse into your heart.
Hugs XXXX
Mia
Yes, that time with God is such a gift. Thank you for your encouragement, Mia.
Such a wonderful post Just as I started reading this while listening to a Christmas album, it clicked over to O Holy Night – one of my favorites too. Thank you for writing this today!
I love that, Eliz. Thanks so much for being here and for your words. By the way, your house looks so beautiful and Christmasy. The girls said the other day, “Our street could be called the new Peacock Lane just because of Eliz and Ryan’s house!”
Amen. I sang O Holy Night, Christmas Eve last year, as a solo. I couldn’t sing the second verse: the words were too much. My dr had advised that I would miscarry, and I was waiting to bleed. That pregnancy ended in Jan, and I got pregnant, again, the very next cycle. I’ve never had such a small baby at Christmastime, before. I took him to choir practice, last night, with my older son and me, and the whole time I was singing those carols, I was thinking of how deeply sad I was, last year, and what a miracle it is to have a baby boy, this Christmas. Jesus really WAS born to be our friend.
Brandee, I have read over your words again and again. I am so touched by what you shared. How powerful — you singing and not singing O Holy Night as you were awaiting the loss of your pregnancy, you singing the carols this year with your two boys. It is a miracle, Brandee, really. I’m thankful for Emanuel who was with you then, as now, and am so grateful for your experiences and memories shared here. Blessings to you.
So beautiful & so true Ashley…this season should be a journey of remembering & yet, so often the true meaning of Christ’s birth gets lost in the hustle, bustle, & stress of the holiday! Thanks for the honesty & beautiful reminder. I currently appreciate the age Aubrey is at & how her excitement over reading the daily advent calendar scripture makes it a priority which would easily get forgotten without her presense there!
Yes, our little people really help “bring us back” if we let them teach us. I love our Advent times with the girls this year, too. :-)
thank you.
:-)
Brennan Manning and O Holy Night? You are talking about my favorites here. And I love your pics! When those fresh moments come along, they are a gift, and you’ve given one of those moments to us here, too :)
Thank you so much, Lori. Glad to have found a kindred spirit! :-) Your words here bless me.
“And I will try to recall the one who came for the vulnerable, the tired and weary, the broken and breaking, even when that’s me.”
Especially, when that is me.
Come Lord, Jesus.
Beautiful.
Thank you, friend.
friend, you don’t know how i needed this desperately tonight. you calmed my anxious heart. thank you. sharing this on facebook. love you.
Thank you again, Emily, for your words here and for “sharing me.” That means so much. Love you and am grateful for your voice and your heart.
Beautiful thoughts, Ashley! I’ve also been thinking lately about how things are different this Christmas (loss tends to do that sort of thing.) But in all of it, the change…the wavering…has more to do with me than it has to do with God. Thank goodness. Emmanuel, indeed!
I’m so sorry for the loss you’ve experienced, Sonika. What a profound statement you make that the change and wavering has more to do with us than God. May you know the love and goodness of our Emanuel this Christmas…whatever shape that takes. Thank you so much for your thoughts and presence in this place.
Ashley, this was such an exquisite piece that I was rendered silent. It was a wash of peace. Three reads later, it is the same. It’s cliche to say but there are no words (that I can find) to say how grateful you make me every day I live. with all my heart.
Wow, thank you, Mama. I love you with all mine, too.
I’m with the last commentor, Ash… there’s too much to take in here, in one reading or in three. I need to come back to this and soak in it. I love the reflections on the things that are the same, always present, and on what’s different this year – so deeply felt, like a pulse, yet all beneath the skin. How I love this: “Maybe it’s the intention to give my presence and not stuff.” I’m finding such liberation and satisfaction and joy in this myself this year. Thank you, thank you, thank you, sweet friend, for your heart.
Thank you, dear Amber. I love what you say about the pulse beneath the skin. That puts new words to it for me — this same, but different. Love you, friend.
“I sing for my Jesus.
The One who freed me from self-despising and wounds cutting deep and the unending quest to be perfect, who delivers me again and again from my mistakes and my worry and my striving and who reminds me I am loved, even when I feel undeserving. Yes, especially then.”
This brought the prickle of tears, and for the first time in a long while a genuine thankfulness for my Saviour, a sense of what He has done for me.
Thank you so much for this. I needed this, and it was an unexpected gift. Much love to you (and thanks for linking up) xx
I’m moved by your words here, Tanya — thank you for sharing them with me. Bless you, friend.
Thank you Ashley for this. O holy night is my favorite carol and makes me stop and ponder, wherever I am, what advent is really about. You get it – how to celebrate Jesus’ birthday :)
Oh, it’s yours too? I agree — O Holy Night always stops me in my tracks.
Dangit…your writing is so amazing and wonderful!!!!!! Ash, thank you so much for the clarity, the peace and the joy that you share. I share so many of the things your commenters have said…but oh my goodness, sister, you are GOOD!!! (loud computer voice as well there). Love you!
Nanner
Nanc, you bless me. Truly, as I read your words this morning, my heart feels all wrapped up. THANK YOU for being my friend and encourager all these years.
The birth of Christ to most brings joy and thankfulness. Should this not be the time of year that our hearts focus on this profound gift for mankind, above all others?
Yes, Papa. Exactly this.