I heard it all week in my head...Let He who is without sin cast the first stone...
Yeah, right, I thought. Of course. And so that's exactly what I said I did. Problem was, I was up in one of those really tall buildings doing important work, overlooking every one scampering about, and the windows were those real strong ones. When my imaginary-self looked at my real-self and threw the stone, it bounced off the window and fall down to the ground, hurting others.
I am important, you know. I do important work... I am a mother... I get up early and go running...
Can you hear it? Have you seen it in my words all this time? Do you smell it?
Yeah, it stinks bad! Like, rotten leftovers that I said I'd eat and never got around to it, and then the fridge went kapput on a hot Summer day. Stinky like that.
Earlier this week I was coming back from a morning run and one of our neighbors nearly hit me. I've talked about it all week, even though I heard the words...Let He who is without sin cast the first stone... And yet, I continued to talk about this person, even having a long facebook gossip fest without naming names, but still it wasn't right of me.
I haven't wanted your Christmas. I haven't needed your Christmas. The obligation associated with what Christmas is for so many people...crazy schedules, stress, expected gift giving, cookie baking and sharing, parties...even church. I haven't needed any of that. I've declared that I know what Christmas is about and it isn't any of that. I've even said that I don't want some classic line of encouragement from the most Holy of sources and held up people's individual words as the most treasured of all. It's all a matter of perspective, I know, but still...my judgment and pride were clearly colored.
Did I think I could do Christmas better than anyone else?
I really do know the meaning of this holiday. I really know to choose Peace and Love and Grace. But...I fell flat on my face and I couldn't do it in my own strength. I wasn't strong enough. I fell. I became tangled up in the mess of obligation and stress just like the rest of 'em.
And so...did I really get it? Perhaps. In my mind I know the Truth. But even Superheroes fall, and I've seen it happen. I know that God will breakthrough Pride in the most loving and graceful ways.
So for me, this Christmas is about leaning on His strength, moment by moment. Nothing I can do. Not about me. Just about Him. The Creator who became a babe lying in a manger. Really? Yes, Really.
Christ-Mas. Does that mean more Christ? Whether it does or doesn't, I think that's exactly the place where I've come. More Christ. Less of me. More of Him.
(Still, though, you might not want to come over and preach at me about what Christmas is, because you might get hit with a big fat snowball of my own pride. I'm armed and dangerous.)
Even still, I am loved...and so are you.