Merry *almost* Christmas y’all!
As we lead up to Christmas day, I’ve decided to share three simple stories of hope for Christmas. Simple was an intentional decision. There are bigger, grander stories in the world. Stories that will bring tears to your eyes and make your jaw drop in wonder. But I decided on simple for two reasons.
As I reflect on the meaning of Christmas, I think of simple.
Jesus was born in simple, humble circumstances. A barn, with hay, animals and, this is just a guess but probably, no epidural. Oh, Mary, do you ever have my sympathy! Even so, Jesus came into the world bringing hope we couldn’t fathom.
When I look at nature, I always remember that God is an artist. But sometimes I forget he is also an author. Admittedly, I find this a bit ironic since I’m a writer. God could’ve chosen any setting to bring salvation into the world. But he choose simple. We should note this as proof that he works in the simple. To be clear, he brings forth hope out of simple.
Secondly, our day to day, is often lived out very simply.
I love this quote that illustrates this point, “It must be remembered that life consists not of a series of illustrious actions, or elegant enjoyments; the greater part of our time passes in compliance with necessities, in the performance of daily duties, in the removal of small inconveniences, in the procurement of petty pleasures.” Dr. Johnson
Onto our three simple stories of hope for Christmas:
1.Hope for Mamas:
Oh dear, do mamas ever need hope. Have you encountered a toddler recently? They speak a language constructed by themselves, understood mostly by only themselves. Physically, they’re large enough to create hurricane-level disasters. Mentally they’re developed enough to have opinions as strong as the oceans waves.
As you may imagine, all this combined with their perpetual syrup-covered-fingers can really cause some challenges. As well as sticky coffee tables, door handles and legos. You will never find where “it came from” because, “it” is actually their fingers. Yes, I’m convinced that years 2-? human fingers ooze syrup.
As a mom of a toddler-child, there are a plethora of skills we are always working on. Most of them, such as potty training, remain tragically unattained. Think more of a comedy show than an awards ceremony. However, it is with great pleasure that I can tell you, Ray has officially began using the phrase “thank you.” It comes out more like “tu do,” but, its the intention that counts. We’ve got years to work on annunciation. “Tu do,” while simple, has been something the hubby and I have been trying to reinforce unsuccessfully for months. And one day, he just started saying it. Now every time he gets a cup of juice or water, “tu do” follows. I know its little, but it brings a glimmer of hope to me. If we can master “tu do”, surely using the potty isn’t far off. Right?!
Please don’t answer that.
2. Hope for Dreamers:
A friend recently shared a piece on Facebook written by Jen Hatmaker about the struggles of being an Enneagram 3. If you’re not familiar with the Enneagram, its a personality tool. 3’s are motivated by wanting to be more successful.
“The worst part about being an Enneagram 3” Jen Hatmaker writes, “is the sense that no matter what I do, or how much, or how diligently, or how sincerely, I always, always feel like I am not working hard enough.”
Well, as Enneagram 4, we are motivated by the desire to be authentic. I don’t relate to this success-desire struggle. Although, some of that would probably be healthy. For me, the Enneagram 4 struggle comes in as I try to lean into my day-job and my day-dream. It feels like being in a boxing ring with logic vs passion. One gives you real work and real money, while the other is comprised of ideas and concepts that most 4-creators are hoping to capture in the form of art, words or music. But to not carve out space for passions and dreams feels like soul suffixation. How else are we going to “find true selves!?”
Thankfully, in November, I went to writers conference called Hope*writers. Hope*writers is basically a writers support group. They come alongside and help us figure out how writing can play within the context of day-jobs and toddlers.
The conference was in Charlotte, NC from a Thursday evening through mid-day Saturday. Because I did have someone ask, the cost was around $250.00 for all three days. However, I couldn’t find my receipt to be exact, sorry!
The true beauty of this conference, even more than the exceptional content, was the culture. Everyone who was there was on each others side. It didn’t matter what type of writing you enjoyed, or what stage of writing you were in, we were all there to cheer for one another. This gave me so much hope, not just for writing and my day-dream, but for humanity as a whole. Although rarely witnessed, we do have the ability to be on our own team and each other’s team too.
3.Hope for the tardy:
Earlier this week I found myself doing something I haven’t done in years, sprinting. Both my feet and heart were pounding as I ran at a speed I didn’t know I was capable of. I was trying desperately to catch a plane for a work trip. The only problem was that my flight departed at 8:20 AM and it was 8:00 AM. I want you to know right now that this was NOT my fault. Due to fog, a critical bridge on the way to the airport was closed, thus causing people everywhere (but mostly where I live) to miss their flight.
“Run, girl, run” a random guy yelled as I flew past him on my way to the baggage counter. “Thank you!” I yelled back, but only mentally. I was running too fast to actually speak.
When I finally made it to the Southwest baggage counter, the employees understood my dilemma just by my washed-up rag doll appearance. All three of them immediately began helping me. They grabbed bags and tags and one of the guys looked up my flight. “I think you have a chance” he announced, “your flight hasn’t started boarding yet.” Thus began my next sprint, to security.
When I told the security lady how late I was, without a comment, she left her podium went and got a bucket for my things to go in. “Here” she said handing me the bucket, and then once I filled it with my purse and phones, she placed it in the front of all the other buckets in the security line. She beckoned me to the front and just like that, I cut in front of all of security. Ultimately, my flight was delayed by a few minutes and I was able to make it on board.
But heres what stood out, besides my poor cardio endurance…me running late was not the security lady’s problem. Usually those people don’t even make eye contact. But she took it upon herself to stop her job, and help me get to my flight as quickly as possible. And this gave me hope for the tardy. If you’re running late, or if you just have horrible travel luck, there are people out there who will help when you need it most.
Simple Hope at Christmas:
So, as you do all that you are doing to get ready for Christmas, I have a challenge for you. As you carefully wrap gifts (or if you wrap them in a fury of curse words), as you work your day job, and as you inevitably run in and out of Target, I want you to do this: think of a simple story of hope that has recently unfolded in your own life. You may have quickly dismissed it. But for a second, I want you to recall and hold on to it. Think about how that moment reflected Jesus. Its these little moments, after all, that reflect the setting of where Christmas began.
Also, if you’re in need of a laugh, you wont regret reading this guest post by my friend Faith from last year titled, “The Cat that Shat on Christmas.” Or if you are making cookies make sure to check out my “Fa la llama” cookies from last year.
I hope you enjoyed these three stories of hope. And of course, Merry Christmas!