As I sit on my couch watching droplets of rain gracefully fall from the sky, I’m warmed by a fire in our wood-burning stove and the soft twinkling of the Christmas tree. This moment is pretty much a quintessential “Christmas” moment. Like the ones depicted on Pinterest by the girls with their adorable pajamas and Starbucks-worthy coffee concoctions in hand. It’s what winter and Christmas and patterned leggings are all about, right?
Well, this year, my Christmas is different. It’s different than every other Christmas I have experienced. It’s not like the ones as a kid, barely sleeping and waiting eagerly for morning to come. It’s not like the ones as a newlywed when every “first” is as picture-worthy as your engagement. This year, it’s just so different.
It’s different because I have a baby boy. It’s our first Christmas as parents and his first as our gift on earth. We are 9 months in to this whole mom and dad bit, and now, at Christmas, I find myself humbled. OK, so I’ve been humbled many times throughout our little man’s first 9 months, but right now, it’s overwhelming. It’s emotional and exciting and scary. It’s a perspective changer. In a huge way.
Have you heard the song, “Joseph’s Lullaby” by Mercy Me? Here’s a peak at what it has to say:
Go to sleep my Son
This manger for your bed
You have a long road before You
Rest Your little head
Can You feel the weight of Your glory?
Do You understand the price?
Or does the Father guard Your heart for now
So You can sleep tonight?
Go to sleep my Son
Go and chase Your dreams
This world can wait for one more moment
Go and sleep in peace
I believe the glory of Heaven
Is lying in my arms tonight
But Lord, I ask that He for just this moment
Simply be my child
Go to sleep my Son
Baby, close Your eyes
Soon enough You’ll save the day
But for now, dear Child of mine
Oh my Jesus, Sleep tight
This song caught my attention in between Mariah Carey’s “Silent Night” and the traditional “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” on my Pandora station one afternoon while I was putting my boy down for a nap. It struck me. It’s everything I pray over my sweet boy. That he chase his dreams. That he be prepared for the long road before him. But first, that he sleep… Safely.
This could be what every parent prays over their precious child … their own gift from God. And I am confident it is close to the prayers Joseph and Mary prayed over the precious, perfect life they were given the responsibility of caring for. Oh, to be humbled by the sweet warmth of a baby! And to know, that that gift is so much more. Did they pray that the glory of Heaven, that lay in their arms could for just “this moment, Simply be my child”?
I am humbled, because I look at my baby boy and I know the love that Mary and Joseph had for Jesus. The moment they saw His face and heard His cry. The moment He nestled His soft head into the warmth of their neck. The moment He first reached for them in comfort. When they saw His first smile and heard His first laugh. Each one of those moments stole their hearts. They loved him like He was their own.
But He wasn’t. He was someone else’s son. He was God’s precious son.
And I’m humbled again. Could I give up my child for the world? For this dark, dangerous, and broken world? Would I do it for anyone? And then, to know that he would be rejected; My job is to protect my baby! How could I let him go to be hurt and ridiculed and mocked? My heart breaks at the shear idea of that kind of sacrifice.
My stomach is in knots just imagining it. I ache because I know, that in my humanity, I couldn’t do it. I would not want to.
At dinner, with some friends the other night, we talked about the weight of humility in the act of a magnificent, powerful God, reducing himself to the vulnerability of an infant child. He came down here, to our broken earth as a baby, needing to be cared for. He, the God of the Universe, relied on Mary and Joseph for everything. To be fed, changed, clothed, nurtured, and loved. That is humility.
This Christmas, as I rock my sweet, small, vulnerable baby boy to sleep, I see my Savior. I see the gift he has given me in my son and the sacrifice his father gave through his son. I see a small glimpse of Mary’s heart and her tender love for the fulfillment of God’s promise. I feel Christ’s love for His children in a new, powerful, and humble way. I pray that even after December 25th, after the lights go out and the tress come down, that I will continue to see God’s love every day in those beautiful blue eyes. Oh, to love Christ as desperately as I love my baby. To understand the depth of His love for me as His child. May this Christmas, and each one after, be different.
May it be through the eyes of Christ’s humility.