I've kind of felt like I lost my Christmas spirit lately. Our shopping is done. Our house is decorated. Neighbor gifts are delivered. Holiday movies, music and books abound. And yet I have felt myself dreading Christmas. Wishing it were over already. The discouragement and negativity have been disheartening.
Yesterday was Christmas Sunday. We got dressed and ready for church. The baby pooped when I put him in his carseat. Pulled him out changed him. He pooped again as I put him back in his seat. We headed to church with poopy baby and only 5 minutes until church started. Church was only an hour. I headed straight for the bathroom with diaper, wipes and baby in hand. We walked in during the opening hymn. The meeting was filled with music from the primary choir as well as the ward choir. The Relief Society president and her husband were the speakers.
She spoke about light. How we seek light in our lives. We need light to help us be productive. (Ever tried to get ready in the dark?) Plants need light to grow. We need light to help us be happy. Hurray for vitamin D! We need the light of Christ for those same things. He is the light that brings productivity, growth and happiness. He is the light that brings hope and peace. Comfort and guidance. He is the light.
I was especially interested in what her husband would have to say. He’s an obstetrician and I figured he would talk about the birth of Christ. More than an obstetrician, he is my obstetrician. He delivered my baby. He started out with a fictional woman Sarah, pregnant with her first baby. In labor 18 hours, pushing for 2. Everyone anxiously awaiting the arrival of the new little spirit she was carrying. He asked her if this is the hardest thing she’s ever done. She responds with an emphatic yes! And then the veil thins and a new spirit enters the world. He talked about the mothers emotions, worried, nervous, then excited, relieved, and then filled with so much joy as tears spill down her cheeks and she meets her baby for the first time. Texts are sent out, Facebook and Instagram posts are made and maybe an actual phone call is placed as we spread the word of the new arrival.
I of course stood by the door bouncing my fussy baby, crying as he basically told the story of my labor and delivery. He then paralleled that with the birth of the baby Jesus. His mother tired and oh so pregnant. Joseph searching for some clean straw as he worked to keep the animals back. Mary laboring in a stable, nervous and worried. Excited and filled with joy and relief at the arrival. How would it be to know your baby would grow up to save mankind? I hope my baby grows up and doesn’t flip burgers for a living.
How would it be to feel the burden of being the mother of the Savior of the world? I feel the burden of being the mother of an average little boy. I have never felt more connected and in awe of Mary as I do this year. As I think of my own emotions preparing to bring a little life into the world and imagining how she felt.
There were no texts going out. No Facebook posts declaring his birth. No groups of relatives arriving at the hospital with well wishes. A simple star in the heavens. A few humble shepherds. And later the wisemen. It was a humble and simple beginning for a baby who would change the world.
I am so grateful for Mary. For her courage, her goodness, her faith. I grateful for her gift to the world. For her little son he grew up to be my savior.
I hope we can keep the focus and true spirit of Christmas as we are bombarded with the worldly. Pulled in every direction. Distracted from every side. Let us resolve to turn our focus to Him who brings light. To Him who is light. At Christmas and all through the year.
