My first nativity set was given to me by my Sweetie (Honey Pies mom) back in 1995. I'm a sappy sentimental type, so you can imagine how I felt when I loaded
my arms up with too much last night, and something fell out and broke. I was upset when I heard the
sound, but not as upset as when I
saw what it was. There on the floor, lies the broken shards of baby Jesus. Not a sheep, or camel, or shephard. Nope, I broke the most important piece of the whole set.
Few and far
between are the occasions when full-blown Hissy Fit pitching is called for, and
hum-boy-howdy, this was one of them. Living here in the Midwest, were the reserved family we are
part of has NO experience with Hissy Fit pitching, my children have only
experienced two. Needless to say
feet came running from all over the house when this one commenced. “NO NO NO, agggggrrrrrhhhaaaaa” this is accompanied by frantic river
dance footwork, followed by more howling and other-worldly groanings.
Eyes wide, hearts racing, they piled into the room to see the disaster. To their wondering eyes, nothing is
wrong. No blood. No threat. No danger. Just
Mama, arms loaded, doing this crazy person
dance. They can only see me. They can’t see little baby Jesus, in
pieces, on the floor.
Sad to say, this is not the first time I have done this. Not
the first time that he’s been pushed out because I was in a hurry, or overloaded, by my own choices. Not the first
time I’ve been thrown into full-blown panic mode because He was missing from my
priorities, my choices. No, this
isn’t the first time Jesus has been left on the floor while I clutched to my
heart other things. Truth is, most of the pain I've had in my life, I caused myself.
How often does this happen in life? We don’t keep Jesus where he
should be, close enough that he doesn’t get pushed out by other things. How often do we see someone in the
throes of crises, and we can’t figure out why they are acting the way they
are. We can’t see the broken
relationship on the floor of their heart. We can’t see they are reaping pain
because they didn’t keep their priorities straight. All we can see is the frantic flailing. The panic. The pain.
Because that is exactly what happens to us. Every time.
Every time we pile our lives too full, and Jesus gets pushed out. Every time we don’t put him where he
belongs. First. First in my heart. First in my schedule. First in my finances. First in my relationships.
Today, as I attempt to fix this. To put the pieces back together, I am reminded of several
*If something is precious, don’t overload yourself with less
*I need to salvage lost, broken relationships. No, they may never be the same. Dings, chips, cracks are going to tell
the story of the drop. But fix what you can. I must forgive, and ask for forgiveness. A repaired relationship is better than a broken one.
*He came, whole, to be broken. For me. So I could be mended too.
So off I go. To
glue. To pray. To mend. Maybe you have some gluing and praying
of your own to attend to. May the broken Christ, wounded for your transgressions, help to make you whole. Blessed repair season to you and yours.