"While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them." —Luke 2:6-7, (NIV)
Mary, the mother of Jesus, is running late, and the baby doll representing the show's star is lost. The angel is crying and hyperventilating from a major case of stage fright, and the donkey needs another bathroom break. One thing to always expect when producing a children's play is chaos. But wait for it; the magic is coming.
I'm sure an unwed Joseph and Mary (and the donkey) felt the weight of the chaos and uncertainty of the lengthy travel back to his hometown of Bethlehem to register for the census. Then, as soon as they crossed that task off the list, it was time to give birth. However, there was no guest room for Mary and Joseph. Our King spent the night in an animal trough.
Fortunately, I had a hospital room, but the chaos that ensued leading up to the birth of my first son was laughable. I was summoned to jury duty two weeks before my due date. At 38 weeks, I nervously prepared to attend my niece's wedding in a rural area two hours away from a hospital. Fortunately, my brother assured me he had delivered many calves and sheep. I started having contractions at three in the morning the day before the wedding. I went to the doctor that morning, only to be sent home with false labor. My husband called out of work in the evening and took me back to the doctor. The emergency room staff told the wrong man it was time to push my wheelchair to the labor and delivery floor and have a baby. You can imagine the look on his face!
The epidural was too strong, which I was thankful for, but then I couldn't move my legs even an inch. I watched my husband and best friend eat pizza while I hadn't eaten in twelve hours. Then everyone wagered on whether my son would be born on the 24th or the 25th. He was born eighteen minutes into the wedding day. I missed the wedding, but, praise God, I didn't give birth in my brother's barn.
While this story makes me chuckle, the rest of 2015 was not so laughable and joyous. That Christmas was the hardest one I have ever experienced, and nothing like I idealized as a first-time mom. However, that year, I began a journey with Jesus that led me to today, writing about our Savior who redeems and restores.
Our God is not in the business of writing stories of convenience, ease, and earthly acceptance. He certainly didn't write that plot line for His only begotten Son. Instead, He writes stories that stir emotions with redemptive plot twists and cliffhangers that cause us to hold our breath.
God's stories always have depth and meaning beyond what is fathomable, and although there are painful chapters, He constantly builds our character and faith throughout the pages. Line by line. He makes us into His masterpieces.
Our Father crafted every moment of the first Christmas with intentionality. Had there been acceptance instead of rejection, comfort instead of inconvenience, and a room with a door to close, the story wouldn't have been as magical and still reenacted by lively children over 2,000 years later.
God authors perfect stories that are told repeatedly throughout generations.
Hallelujah!
Mary, the mother of Jesus, shows up in the nick of time, and the baby doll is found. The angel sings with the sweetest voice this side of heaven, and the donkey steals the show with his shenanigans. Chaos abounds and ultimately culminates in the most beautiful, imperfectly perfect performance—a Christmas story we tell and retell.
Friend, if this Christmas season is filled with heartache, don't give up hope—the magic is coming. The abundance in life you seek is found in our King. Your victorious finale has already been written.
Questions for Reflection:
What simple things can you do this holiday season to sprinkle joy into your days?
What can you do to intentionally look for the magic in your story?
Originally published as part of the Crossmap Daily Devotions.
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