In this edited repost, I'm bringing a blast from the past, but it seems appropriate for Christmas in a pandemic. We won't be doing a church Christmas play this year and oh, how I miss it.
However, I am hosting a Book Bash at the Friends of Anaiah Press site on Facebook. I'd love to have you join me today, December 1, from 4 to 9. I'll have giveaways and you may also enter for the grandprize, a $50 gift card and 4 free books. See you there.
The last of the turkey leftovers have been put in the freezer and we've pulled the Christmas decorations from the closet.
The Christmas Season is upon us.
Actually, I've been thinking about my Christmas plans since July. How's that for long term planning?
To that end, I’m helping to direct the children’s Christmas play at church this year.
We have our challenges.
The shepherds have a disposition to shoot down the aisle early preempting Mary’s “Away in the Manger” solo. One lamb would rather be with his mom than a bunch of diminutive sheepherders, so he tries to slip the clutch of his handler. And it seems that in the spirit of the classic children’s story by Barbara Robinson, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, we may find ourselves with a ham on the altar the evening of the performance. (If somehow you missed The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, find a copy and read it to any kids you can round up. It will definitely unlock the child in you, too.)
But, despite the crowd control issues, there are poignant moments when these precious kids who grip my heart have me dissolving into tears almost making me forget who I’m supposed to cue on stage.
All this has made me reflect on the original cast. I can see many opportunities for things to have gone haywire then, too.
Instead of saying, “Be it unto me even as you have said,” Mary could have told God she wasn’t going to the prom carrying an infant. After learning of Mary’s pregnancy, Joseph could’ve simply defriended her. After recovering from their angelic appearance shock, the shepherds might have sought greener pastures--in the opposite direction of Bethlehem. And the Wise Men? They could’ve thought it wiser to keep their distance from a baby who had Herod in such an uproar.
But God was the original long-term planner.
Somehow, from the beginning, God knew this motley bunch of characters would play their part in the unfolding of a story that split history.
He knew we’d need to see that ordinary people could play an extraordinary part in God’s plan of redemption for the world.
And He knew a baby would change everything.
There’s a culminating moment in our pageant when we understand that every line and action in the play points to the baby Jesus. All eyes are on the infant King. That’s when I almost lose it.
God chose to become Jesus, a vulnerable, tiny person in the care of a teenager and a carpenter, and included farmhands, astronomers, and livestock in the celebration of His historical entrance. You gotta love a story like that.
When life seems to be going off the rails, it’s a comfort to know the God, who became one of us, sees, knows, and is always working even through the difficult circumstances to accomplish His purpose.
So, the night of our pageant, if a ham shows up, it’ll be okay. Because we’re going to be looking for Jesus, God with us, and there’s nothing like a child to show us the way.
“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).