First Christmas
This Christmas is especially meaningful to our family. It will be our first Christmas with our three children, whom we adopted in August of this year.
We have been trying to point them to Christ during this joyous season—they haven’t had that influence in their three-and-a-half years in separate foster homes.
As we’ve decorated the house, we’ve stopped and read passages from the Bible. We’ve also created a book for them that explains the significance of our traditions:
- The Christmas tree
- Candy canes
- Wreaths
- Poinsettias
- Gift-giving
And most importantly, the manger scene where baby Jesus came into the world.
As we’ve read to them, their eyes have filled with wonder and delight. They continue to look around the house in awe of a holiday that truly is more than lights and commercials. Everything we have done—and will continue to do—celebrates Jesus.
I know it is a turning point in their lives. It is for me too.
Explaining the real meaning of Christmas to a child—our children—has re-ignited a passion in me for the holidays. I find myself getting lost with contentment in the bundles of joy God has brought to our little family.
In many ways, it’s my first Christmas.
Is this a glimpse of what Mary felt on her first Christmas with the Christ of Christmas? Did she gaze at the marvel of God in her arms? Was she silenced by the Son of God on her chest? Did she whisper in His tiny ears that He would save us from our sins? Did she celebrate Jesus—God with us?
Truly, it was her first Christmas.
Throughout history, many families have celebrated their first Christmas—not one filled with lights and commercials but one that lifts up Jesus—God’s first and only Christmas to the world.
Forever, we will share the merriest story of all. Forever, we will treasure all these things in our hearts (Luke 2:19).
Thank you, Jesus, for that first Christmas.
Come alongside… Tell us about your first Christmas celebrating Jesus. What are your traditions?
Two Years Full of Assumptions
At a Christmas gathering over the weekend, we read the Christmas story–a children’s picture-book version.
Kids and adults alike gathered in the living room to listen to the reason for this joyous season.
As the story progressed, some children–and adults–listened intently, while others half-listened, buzzed from an evening full of treats and sweets.
It was an interactive story–with questions and answers–mostly from the children.
In the middle of the story, a child asked, “What’s a manger?”
Minutes later, an adult–the mother of the child who had asked about the manger–interrupted the story with another question, “What are shepherds?” My head slowly turned to them, realizing that this precious single mom and her child whom we’ve known now for almost two years had never heard the Christmas story–the true Christmas story, the story of Jesus’ birth.
In two years, we have increasingly spent time with them–they have become part our extended family.
But in those two years, I’ve mistakenly assumed they’ve known about Jesus all along.
Two years full of assumptions.
Two years empty of intentionally talking to them about Jesus–the blessed hope for all the world.
I felt a strong pressing on my chest as I listened to the rest of the story.
Father, forgive me for assuming they knew. Forgive me for not asking them straight out.
I could say that I hope my actions and words have been a good example to them of what it means to be a true Christian, but I know that my example could not possibly be good–or distinctive–enough if it hadn’t yet pointed them to Christ.
Father, forgive me.
Are they the only ones?
- How many people, I wonder, surround me on a routine basis who I assume know Jesus?
- How many do I walk by without telling them of the Man who forever changed my life?
- How many are hurting and looking for hope that I have not yet offered?
- How many?
Two years full of assumptions.
Two years empty of intentionally telling them about Jesus.
For me, those two years end now.
When will they end for you?
Father, help me not only to live a life that resembles Christ but also to speak more of Christ in my life. Help me to be ready to speak the Good News of Jesus–anytime, anyplace (2 Timothy 4:2).
Give me the wisdom and opportunities to speak up and tell anyone who asks why I’m living the way I am (1 Peter 3:15). Help me not to assume but to share Jesus freely.
Thank you, Father, for your love and your patience with me. Amen.
Come alongside…Who have you assumed knows Jesus? Are you sure they do? Will you set some time to talk with that person? How will you go about it? How can you share this story with others?
Inviting Them Home
Inspirational writer, Shanda Delaney Oakley, recently blogged about being “Home for the Holidays.” In her post, Shanda revealed that there were many people who were away from their home for the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ–Joseph, Mary, the shepherds, the wise men, and most of all, Jesus Himself.
Several years ago, I was away from home for the holidays. Recently divorced, I moved to a new town the week of Christmas and knew no one–except my dog. I didn’t know my way around the town, and all I remembered was seeing a church several blocks from my house.
I mustered up enough courage to drive to the church for their Christmas Eve candlelight service. Churchgoers shook my hand, talked to me, and asked why I was in town. A kind family invited me to sit by them. I felt at home.
At the end of the service, I thanked them for welcoming me and wished them a merry Christmas. As I walked away, the mother figure in the family came over and invited me to her family’s that evening–and if I had nowhere else to go, I could come to Christmas dinner with them too.
At first, I declined and said I didn’t want to impose. But she insisted–it would be no imposition. They had a large family and everyone would be there. I whispered, “Okay.”
I followed them home and enjoyed evening snacks and gift-giving. We laughed and played games. I felt at home.
The next day, I joined them for Christmas. Again, I felt at home.
It was just one invitation–but an invitation I’ll never forget.
Every year since then, my friends and I have hosted a Christmas party for singles and others who have little to no family in the area. We enjoy each other’s company and it is the “home for the holidays” that most wouldn’t otherwise have. This past Saturday, we had almost 40 people in my home. We laughed and played games. Can you picture a white-elephant gift exchange for 40 people ages 2 to 74? I enjoyed every minute of it, and I trust they did too.
They felt at home.
As you and your family approach Christmas Eve, Christmas, and even the New Year holiday, think about those who don’t have a place where they can feel at home. Call them. Reach out to them. Invite them home.
Come alongside… Who can you share your home with for the holidays?
