Thursday 2 January 2020

Dismal December.

How? How can a month which heralds the celebration of the Saviour possibly be dismal? Surely,
Delightful December. Delicious December, even, if we think of all the wonderful Christmas food we feast on. Decisive December, perhaps, leading into the New Year.

Yet, truth be told (as Matthew West sings, so delightfully), it has been dismal in parts. Christmas has loomed, along with the knowledge that our children are, at least, three plane rides away, if not on the other side of the globe. The lack has overshadowed coming joy, in a way it should not have done.

Matthew West sings:
Lie number one you're supposed to have it all together
And when they ask how you're doing
Just smile and tell them, "Never better"
Lie number 2 everybody's life is perfect except yours
So keep your messes and your wounds
And your secrets safe with you behind closed doors
Truth be told
The truth is rarely told, now
I say I'm fine, yeah I'm fine oh I'm fine, hey I'm fine but I'm not
I'm broken
And when it's out of control I say it's under control but it's not
And you know it
I don't know why it's so hard to admit it
When being honest is the only way to fix it
There's no failure, no fall
There's no sin you don't already know
So let the truth be told
There's a sign on the door, says, "Come as you are" but I doubt it
'Cause if we lived like it was true, every Sunday morning pew would be crowded
But didn't you say the church should look more like a hospital
A safe place for the sick, the sinner and the scarred and the prodigals
Like me...
Can I really stand here unashamed
Knowin' that you love for me won't change?
Oh God if that's really true
Then let the truth be told...

So, December has, at times, been Downright Dismal. Yet it has helped, reading so many thoughtful reflections on the fact that Christmas, for many, is a time overshadowed with sorrows and regrets, pain and longing, despite the Good News. It has made it all the more poignant, the realisation how true it is that Christ came to a broken, fallen world as that brokenness is apparent in our lives.

As December 24th loomed, I knew, again, that it is indeed darkest before the dawn...Getting my head and heart back to the true meaning of Christmas was a challenge...

However, December was also quite delightful. We were invited to a friend's birthday dinner, wonderfully fun and relaxing as we shared our lives together. Our friend Sean is extremely knowledgeable about wine, so we were invited to taste several different wines, all carefully selected to complement each course. I hosted a breakfast for ladies - five of us gathered around the table, chatting and encouraging each other.

School festivities and end of term carol services were all very enjoyable, particularly as Chris Tomlin's He Shall Reign Forevermore had become such a firm favourite with the children that they requested I play it frequently. I was delighted to oblige, along with Casting Crown's Make Room in Your Heart. 
And, of course, always a privilege to teach the Christmas story. Some lovely reflections and poems around on the internet, including this by Emma Knight @ emmarosewrites:

Sorry, there’s no room
There’s not enough to go around you see
So please stop knocking on our doors
Let go of the oars.
I suppose you can come in for a bit
But don’t talk about this, this and this.
There’s too much going on right now
I’m not sure if you’ll fit.
Can’t you read?
The sign says ‘No Room’
Not for you.
This is our home.

A baby cries below the night sky
The sky he flung the stars into
A baby lies in a manger
In a room he doesn’t belong to
In a room he’s welcomed home to

Because this thing about the manger
And forgive me because it gets a little stranger
Is that it’s not on the outside or outskirts
As the story we’ve been told and retold
But there’s so much more to behold
For the manger lies at the centre of the home
A place to behold
To make room for and gather around.
For whilst we hear there was no room in the inn
Bar humbug what a way for life to begin
What that meant was that they had to make room where there wasn’t
Make changes when it wasn’t oh so convenient

For they did make room for Joseph and Mary- the refugees
They did more than pull up a pew and shove them in with oxen too.
They would have thrown out the Christmas tree
For they did more than invite them in for a cuppa tea
They allowed them to make an absolute mess
Have you ever seen a pregnant woman in distress?
They let their Christmas Day turn to disarray
And now 2000 years on I stand hear and say

Is there room for this story in your home?
Is there room for this version, this person, in your head and in your heart?

After all this baby in a manger is only the start.
For when we say we’ve found our home in him.
This king of all kings
It sets a fire in our hearts
A place to centre and hang up all our pride
Fill up our stockings with joy and good tides
To have the shame melted away
And replaced with grace upon grace.
It’s simply His Way.

So when you’re sat in your Living room on the 25th
Perhaps take a moment to ponder whilst you sit
Is there room in your life for this Bethlehem morning?
Is there room in your life for this real life story?
Is there room for another place at your Christmas table?
Will you set out a plate for the one who, after all
Lest we forget
It is all about!

Because let’s be honest, the fairy lights, mince pies, cheese and wine nights can only do so much.
It’s still dark out there and the road ahead looks too hard to bare
And there lies a baby in a manger
Could this really be the one that we’ve hoped for?
A meek and mild saviour
God himself in human form
He quiets our hearts to peace in this storm.
Could this really be true rest from it all?
He cried as a baby and cried out for us on that tree
Hold your breath and count… two… three

For peace is being at home and Home is in him
The one who died for all our sin.
What a baby. What a King.
A refugee.
For how can he, this manger laid baby
Really set us free
From the hurt, the shame, the darkness and grief.
Well, by taking it all upon himself
He bore the cross that we deserved
Died in pain, That’s the king I serve.

What if home was not just a building but in you.
What if home wasn’t a nice thought
Something we prayed for as a last resort.
What if home was a person
Who came not just for this festive season
But for a real life-giving reason.

The most generous gift is not found under the Christmas tree
But upon it where he laid down his life, for you and for me
O come all ye get full of festivity, of feasting and gifts.
Gather round this Christmas tree,
Look in, kneel down, begin to peek at the presents.
‘This one’s for you’ the tag reads
‘This one’s for you’ come and receive
Not myrrh, gold or frankincense But God himself.

Not wrapped up as a present
But His presence.
Calling us Home
Back to him
Welcome
No need to wipe your feet
Come in.

Then my dear friend Lisa sent me this:

Mary's song

Blue homesupun and the bend of my breast
keep warm this small hot naked star
fallen to my arms. (Rest...
you who have had so far to come.)
Now nearness satisfies
the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies
whose vigour hurled a universe. He sleeps
whose eyelids have not closed before.

His breath (so slight it seems
no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps
to sprout a world. Charmed by doves' voices,
the whisper of straw, he dreams,
hearing no music from his other spheres.
Breath, mouth, ears, eyes,
he is curtailed who overflowed all skies,
all years. Older than eternity, now he
is news. Now native to earth as I am, nailed
to my poor planet, caught
that I might be free, blind in my womb
to know my darkness ended,
brought to this birth for me to be new-born,
and for him to see me mended,
I must see him torn.
Among presents from kind friends, one particularly delightful gift was Charlie Mackesy's book The boy, the mole, the fox and the horse, and we found ourselves watching his profoundly moving talks on YouTube as well...

My nephew produced a charming little Christmas film:

He is only 15! 

School holidays meant rest and relaxation; catching up on numerous occasions with friends and neighbours: gathering close friends for a Christmas Day celebration together, invited to others for New Years Eve. Walks and cycle rides, including one epic adventure all the way to the north of the island, venturing down all manner of tiny lanes, dropping in on three sets of friends as we did so. Venturing out into the surf, the sea surprisingly warm. Watching gentle films with happy endings. Ticking off a couple of little jobs on my 'to do' list. Reading lots. Even a little writing...And, of course, taking every opportunity to speak to Cara Grace - delightful. (She has a busy social schedule, on holiday with her cousins and revelling in so many different opportunities to explore at her NZ grandparents' house.)
Christmas morning walk - beautifully sunny and dry after two months of non-stop rain...

Dear friends kept us conpany on Christmas Day...  (taking selfies is NOT our No. 1 talent!)
So, so many good things to be thankful for. We finished the year well, celebrating and reconnecting with many friends, making some new ones and, above all, being profoundly grateful for all God has done in our lives and those of our children. Words for next year...? Well, that will be next month's post...but in my head are words like Strong, Take Courage, Stand, Be Kind and Compassionate...

Not just for others...but remembering to be gentle with ourselves. Always a temptation to be our harshest critics, but God is not, and so we may not be.

Gentle, tender December.