How do you picture that first Christmas in Bethlehem?
Most of us probably imagine scenes from Christmas cards: Usually a few animals will be shown as well. Even they seem transfixed by the scene.
Mary and Joseph beam their love at the newborn Baby, while a bright star overhead shines its light directly on the stable.
How lovely, we think.
Reality would not have been so neat and tidy.
Probably most of us know what it’s like to once in awhile sink into a puddle of self-pity
Me, too. Most often the problem is that reciting all the ways our life and/or other human beings have let us down never--never--lifts our spirits.
So why do we bother?
It helps to stop and trace our thoughts backward. Then we usually can identify what started our stumble. We spot how a negative thought (or a string of them) dropped in for a visit. What started the downward slide is that we let them stay.
On our only trip to Rome years ago, I viewed one of Michelangelo's best-known works. His marble, full-figure statue of the young David, which stands 17 ft. high, left me without words.
The story goes that someone asked how he was able to bring forth such stunning works from blocks of marble. The artist answered:
"I saw the angel in the marble and I carved until I set him free."
As Christian parents we pray to understand each child, that is, to "see the angel" within each one. Each child arrives bearing innate qualities as yet unknown to parents.
Some wonder about this because they're in love with a person they think is just right, but they fear "taking that final step" because what if their marriage does not last?
All I can say is that for my husband and me, two ordinary people, our love lasted--and grew stronger--through many, many decades of marriage. Until his last breath. We married when we were two young kids who had a lot to learn--and we did, sometimes slowly.
May I pass along some truths we picked up over the years?
Sometimes God chooses unlikely ways to remind us we have a lot to be thankful for, doesn't He?
Like the time I learned a lot by eavesdropping on someone else's conversation.
Let me explain. Sometime back, I stopped one morning at a local restaurant, ready to have some coffee and read the morning newspaper. Then I got treated to someone else’s story and got a lift for my morning.
On that dreadful day the only people who rejoiced were the ones who wanted Jesus dead.
Even those who loved Jesus the most did not understand that three days later their dear Friend would rise from the dead and they would see him again.
Some had abandoned everything to be with him. To listen. To learn. To believe.
And now this. Those who stayed at the cross, waiting, couldn't believe what was happening. Most of his followers were filled with disbelief and fear, wondering what lay ahead for them. Would they be next?
When Pastor Brad recently used the phrase "a desert of your own making" it took me back to a day those words opened my eyes.
An opportunity had arisen for my husband, so we made one of those job-related moves that can leave the other spouse thinking, what about me? Even as I rejoiced for him it meant we must leave behind a good life in a place I wanted to stay. But I loved my husband more, so I determined I would learn to like our new life.
He took to his new position like the proverbial duck to water—and I was glad for him, all the time asking God, now what?
Did you ever consider that you and your spouse might be poster children for marriage?
Think how often you watch a movie or TV show and say, “I liked most of the characters, but I wouldn’t want to live like that.”
Every day, all day, what parades in front of us on screens of all sizes mostly flies in the face of living as Christians. Your marriage broadcasts that you cared enough to commit to each other for life. One day at a time you keep on loving and keep on growing because every day you decide again to love each other.
You are living out Jesus’ words, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” And is there any closer “neighbor” than your spouse?
