what I need for Christmas

Most days I don't understand more things than I do understand.

I don't understand the failings of this human flesh. This existence. I don't understand how to parent my children. I don't understand how to be the Proverbs 31, virtuous woman kind of wife I'm called to be. I don't understand how those I hold most dear seem to love me in spite of myself. I don't understand how, at 25 years old, I'm still being hurt and allowing myself to be hurt by careless, unthinking people who claim to carry within them the love of a sinless Savior.

There's not much that I do understand. And, honestly, I spend most days in a fog of confusion.

But at the end of the day and with ever increasing awareness, I understand to the extent that my frail mind can manage... that I need Jesus.

I need Him not because that's what I was taught as a child. Not because personal passion is a trendy thing to blog about. Not because I belong to a baptized body of believers who also need Him. And not because I'm feeling particularly small and low today.

I need Him because I am broken and undone. I need Him because without His breath I am just dirt.

And in this special season... as I near the end of my rope and am overwhelmed by the busyness of all the things I've added to my own to-do list... I hear a faint whisper. So quiet that it goes all but unnoticed. A dim star in the distance that's best seen in the peripheral but is lost in the decorations and car lights and crowds and receipts and bank statements.

But day by harried day, night by lonely night... as the state I've gotten myself into becomes more apparent to me... the whisper starts to ring in my ears. The star grows brighter.

Follow me, the star beckons. Come and see the Child.

Come to Bethlehem. Look into His face and calm the storm in your soul.

Rise up out of the angry current and walk on the waves.

Lay your hurt beside His manger and let Him carry it to the cross.

And as I hasten toward His calling and begin my journey to the stable, I'm being show what I most need for Christmas.

In this season... and in every season... I need the simplicity of a manger, the patience of a man who went from door to door seeking a place for his wife to rest, the willingness of a young woman who endured the discomfort of carrying a Baby and travailed with the labor of bringing the Savior into a world which both needed and despised Him...

And most of all, I need the bloodshed of the cross. And the grace to die there each day.

For all these things. For the things I don't even know I need...

He is sufficient.

Merry Christmas, my friends. Won't you meet me at the manger?