Just so you know. I have not abandoned ship. However, I am only steaming ahead at about 3 knots per hour, certainly far from full speed.
2018 has been a difficult year. In July I had a complete knee revision. When that did not relieve the terrible pain I had suffered for many months, I underwent a total and successful hip replacement. Thank God, the pain vanished, and I was home free. Well, not quite!
It seems that the wound was not healing as expected and I had a swelling on my hip the size of a cantaloupe. A wound vacuum would take care of the drainage promoting a speedier recovery. So—I was hooked up to this little miracle worker. That was five weeks ago, and I am still hooked up with no end in sight.
My comedic home health nurse, who interjects scripture at appropriate or inappropriate places, in our conversation, comes three times a week. When I asked, “How long,” he answered, “Two weeks.” A week later, I asked again, and the answer was, “Two weeks.” Did you lie to me I asked? Truth is he has no idea how long it will take to heal.
Now, I love Christmas and almost everything about it, but this heavy device with its long ugly tubing greatly hampers any preparation I might make. So, I just figured there wouldn’t be any Christmas this year—not at my house. Did I feel sorry for me? Absolutely!
Then a quiet voice whispered. “You’re too late. You can’t cancel Christmas. It happened two thousand years ago with that baby in the manger. Christmas is perpetual. It is an ongoing miracle. Just because there is no wreath on your door, and the aroma of baked goodies does not fill your house, still, Jesus has come and Christmas is here. Get over yourself.
Mulling this thought over for awhile and deciding that it took too much energy to feel sorry for me I hung this monstrous contraption on the handle of my walker and wheeled to my Christmas closet. Stacking the walker seat high with Christmas stuff I turned the TV to a Christmas music channel, and when I put the red cloth on the table and placed the poinsettia pillows on the sofa, I knew I could do this. It would be a little late and not quite so elaborate this year, but you can’t stop Christmas, because Jesus has come.
I thought of this wondrous gift God gave to a dark and sinful world—a gift He gave to me—a gift that surpasses all others. Then, the question came. What can I bring Him in return? What do I have that is worthy of Him?
Reading through the Old Testament almost to the end I came across Micah 6:6-8. “With what shall I come before the Lord and bow down before the exalted God.” (Shall I bring Him a burnt offering, a year old calf, a thousand rams, rivers of oil, or the fruit of my body?) None of that seems adequate or worthy of Him.
WHAT SHALL I BRING HIM?
Micah asks, “What does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” That’s what He wants from me.
I figure, if I can give this gift back to Him, even without all the familiar trappings, 2018 will be the most spectacular Christmas I have ever experienced.
Think about it. The tree is gorgeous, packages are lovely, baking cookies smell great, but the reality of Christmas is Jesus’ advent 2000 years ago.
He is your ultimate Christmas gift. What will you give Him in return?
So, dear friend, I wish you a joyful Christmas and a heightened awareness of His presence in your life.
Remember, the sun will come out tomorrow