Who has the Xmas factor?

Who has the Xmas factor?

Christmas is my absolute favorite time of year. I'm who every festive advert is aimed at. I fall hook, line and sinker for every M&S food ad, watch every soppy Christmas film and eat my own body weight in mince pies. But I sometimes get so caught up in Christmas that I forget why I celebrate it. Whilst I love the childhood feeling I still get at the thought of a reindeer-led sleigh pulling a jolly, red suited man along whilst he deposits presents to every child as much as the next person, this rotund hero has become somewhat of an imposter at Chrimbo and the true hero can be forgotten. 

Like Santa, Jesus came quietly and very few saw him. Like Santa, Jesus was given gifts: gold, frankincense and myrrh not whiskey and mince pies. Like Santa, Jesus offers us all a gift: salvation, forgiveness and an inheritance in the riches of heaven. 

But there the similarities end. Jesus did not play it safe and live in a cosy toy factory although his carpentry skills were no doubt second to none. He lived a tough life and died a torturous death in our place. And the other major difference of course: Jesus is real and alive! 

I asked myself: would people know about my relationship with Jesus by the way I celebrate Christmas? It reminded me that ages ago I wrote a poem about identity and it seems relevant to share it at a time when flashing lights, wrapping paper, materialism and general frivolities can distract us from celebrating our Saviour's birthday. 

Identity

My question: Who am I? My problem: My identity.

Wanting them to see that the best is what's meant for me,

The question: What's the best? The problem: Where to look?

My first hook sex and drugs before I opened up God's book.

 

The question of  identity - what makes me who I am?

Friends with the King of Kings yet forgetting his plan.

Jesus died upon a cross so I could be free.

But I feel like the best me when I'm wearing Abercrombie.

 

Why is my focus so out of perspective?

The truth is too big, restricting my reflective

Understanding of God's grace. So I build my golden calve

Worship money and a lifestyle: split my heart in half.

 

Aesthetic identity will only disappoint

Equally no answers can be puffed through a joint

You held up a mirror; I turned and forgot

But your love transcends our fickle hearts; your mercy is our lot.

 

It's not about the money we carry everyday

It's trust in you that shapes me; it's yours anyway.

I know you'll dress me better than the lilies in the field

My promise is you Lord, so to you I'll yield.

 

You've broken the chains of desires that bind,

I'll throw off false trust in wealth and mankind.

It's all about you; help me to give all of me.

So you're my first thought, my identity.

 

I plan on enjoying Christmas to the max and I hope you'll join me in raising a glass to the Birthday boy and toasting King Jesus on what is, afterall, His day!

Parenthood

Today I realized that being a Mum has helped me understand God's heart for us. Being a Mum is the hands down best experience but it does not come without costs. I read a hundred things about pregnancy and giving birth but was not prepared for what happened after. The wondrous love is, for me, accompanied with incessant anxiety, a sense of helplessness and a lingering feeling of guilt that I'm not up to scratch in this new role and that's just the emotional side. Day to day there's the nappies, and the many times the nappies are redundant and instead the code brown situation goes head to toe, the sleepless nights, the cries when they are dry and fed and burped and you've no idea what to do. For me there was also the horrendous mastitis, allergic penicillin reaction and abscess incident which meant hospitalization and separation for my little beauty. For many there are so many other things that make being a mum hard work.

So would I do it again now , knowing what I know? Of course. There is nothing about the costs that detract from the awesome, transforming feeling and energizing, uplifting power that Phoebe's smile gives me or the cuddles that make everything worthwhile. Whilst the leap is substantial I was pondering today on how God made us knowing that there would be huge costs. And the biggest cost of all was sacrificing his Son for us. Now it is border line heretical to compare the cost of my horrendous stretch marks to the cost God experienced for us but I realized today that any sacrifices made for your children, whilst painful at times, always seem worth it because love cancels them out. It's helped me remember why God loves me. Not because I've earned it but because I'm His child and he chose to have me.

There's a song that says: 'and did He see there in the straw by His head a thorn? And did He smell myrrh in the air on that starry night?'

Of course the answer is YES! God knew the fullness of the cost He would pay to win His children back even when Jesus was a tiny baby. The truth of that floors me. His cost puts all of mine in perspective and His love for me will make loving Phoebe easy whatever future cost that brings.