It was a great night, and I felt blessed to be a part of spreading some Christmas cheer and truths in the form of song.
I think I also cheered myself up and gained some perspective tonight.
About what's important.
About how even if I don't always feel a part of all the Christmas happenings at church (this year mainly due to sickness), I am still a part of the body of Christ.
About when Paul spoke about one body with many parts, and them having different roles, all to build up the whole, that's what he was talking about.
Sometimes I am the feet, the voice; walking the paths to spread the message of Jesus. Other times I am the heart, the mind, the hands lifted in prayer, while unable to be doing the physical work but still able to uphold those who are doing it.
I think I've felt it all deeply lately. I've been so used to doing and being busy at christmas time. This year I've felt left out. Not needed. Like the time has passed me by without much being accomplished.
The mundane tasks of each day seem to be the same over and over.
I pick up toys, tidy up, do dishes and washing, and it seems when I turn around they're all ready to be done again.
I've asked what's the point many times in the last few weeks.
What's the point of this over and over again activity without end?
What's the point of ironing out the same squabbles daily?
What's the point of trying to clean up the same messes every day?
Why do I bother?
These are sobering questions, when it feels like all your activity is meaningless.
Just now, I see a pattern.
Messes are a sign that there is life.
If you go into a house that doesn't look like its been touched by human hands, especially not little grubby ones, its a house, not a home. Dose anyone live here?
Jesus cleaned up messes every day...
Jesus healed over and over again...
He spoke words of life, He came to touch and restore that which was unclean...
It must have seemed endless...
Pain, suffering, mess, dirt, hurt, brokenness...
He saw it all, but He didn't shy away...
He knew there was a point to it all...
Love... Life...
Messes, the muck and mire of everyday, that seems to be endless, is a sure sign of life. The mess is inside and outside of us.
Living life in the midst of it all is what it's all about.
The loving God and loving others.
One flows from the other.
And it truly is the message of Christmas - a gift to all, a baby, coming down to us in the midst of all this mess. Straight into it in fact - a stable, a feeding trough...
New life to give new life.
The greatest gift of all given to all.
Emmanuel... God with us, in our midst, amongst us, part of us...
For us... not against, not apart from, not aloof, not just an onlooker...
In the muck and mire with us... becoming the muck and more for us...
conquering it for us...
And I realise I'm thankful for the seemingly endless tasks, because I am starting to see the point.
The constant needs from my family, the endless cleaning, tidying, sorting, fixing, washing...
Reminds me of what I need Jesus to do for me... prompts me to constantly be seeking, abiding, being open to God's continuous work in my life, that is never finished, but always a work in progress...
And so the mundane is Holy... the insignificant the most important of all...
I'm just beginning to really see...
There is a point...
