It’s the second day of
2013, still Christmas break here [hence the sabbatical], and yes, my tree is
still up in the living room. The lights
still hung on the house, and crèches tucked into all our favorite spots. We’ve been going non-stop since the minis got
out of school almost two weeks ago. And
I have lots to share with you…things that will be applicable in another 11
months; and what my plans are for this blog in the coming year. But today, if you’re contemplating
the monumental task of de-Christmasing (as am I) and choosing another cup of caffeinated
fortification instead, just know that you’re not alone.
This morning, I rose an
eensy bit late (I had intended to start my “new 2013 schedule” today by rising
at 6am – good grief, it’s so dark then! – but I stayed up a bit late last night
finishing season two of a certain BBC series so that I’m up to speed for
January 6th – hooray!), and thus resigned myself to being behind all
day. However, after a quick check on
kids revealed that they were still sleeping, I excitedly rushed downstairs with
the prospect of quiet time with my bible and coffee, alone…and quiet! Of course, I had to move all last night’s
dishes out of the way in order to get to my new coffee maker; but while it
brewed, I decided to be productive and sweep the floor to make up for the mess.
And is so often the case, when I sat down
to my bible, the phone rang. It was one
of two people (a friend we had plans with for later this morning, or the
Officer), so I couldn’t ignore it. After
I’d finished a brief conversation, the kids started wandering downstairs,
sleep-rumpled and ready for breakfast.
An hour later (feeding, finding clothes, cleaning the inevitable breakfast
mess, and negotiating more alone time for myself – video games for everyone!), I sat to scarf down my breakfast and try to
read one chapter (I got ½ of it in) of the ten I’m supposed to read today. And then there went the timer I’d set for
myself, so I wouldn’t be late, telling me to jump up and scramble to get ready
(because let’s be honest, I did not leave myself much time to pack lunches and
snacks, get myself groomed, and corral the minis out the door). 
It’s hard not to be
discouraged. And it feels so…irreverent
to be shoveling eggs into my mouth while skimming the Word and trying, as I
gulp it down between bites, to not slosh the now-cold coffee on the pages of my
bible. But, we have commitments and I can’t
very well leave the house in my pj’s. At
least, not these pj’s (no, they’re not the perfect satin and lace variety the
moms on tv wear; they’re more the I-got-these-2-kids-and-a-decade-ago type. Definitely not something I should subject the
public to.)
And then, as I was internally penning my soliloquy of lament,
I was reminded: were Christ physically sitting here with me at this kitchen
table, He’d be like my best friend: He’d talk while I chewed, and listen when I
rambled between bites. He’d converse
with the kids while I prepared their meals, and be genuinely interested in their
morning musings. And then, as they
toddled off upstairs so the adults could talk, He’d be just as pleased to meet
me in the middle of my already too much gone day as He is in the darkest hours
of the morning, when the pious mothers rise from their beds directly to their
knees, candles reverently flickering and hymns thrumming in their chests. Jesus would be comfortable at my kitchen
table, communing with me over a meal and coffee (though I would offer Him a
fresh, warm cup, as I would any friend).
Truth be told, I have a hunch that while there is a time for reverence,
Jesus and His Father and the Spirit like my comfortable communion just as much.
In fact, while Jesus
walked the earth, He broke bread with some of the most unsavory characters in
the Ancient Near East: prostitutes and tax-collectors, fish-mongers and
adulteresses. And though He attended the
synagogues and temple ceremonies of His day, as the devout Jew that He was,
some (if not arguably all) of Christ’s greatest moments were in the mundane
crush and bustle of everyday life with everyday folk. In truth, the incarnation served to bridge
the gap between distant reverence and intimate relationship between humanity
and our God.
This is not to say that
reverence should be equated with distance in the God-person relationship. Quite the opposite! It is the person who realizes who God is, and
who he or she is in comparison, that recognizes the importance and necessity of
reverence in the heart of any believer.
Every person who admits their sinful nature before a perfect and loving
God should find themselves seeking to honor and revere the Lord who saved them
through the blood of His only Son. But
reverence must be coupled with comfort, familiarity, and intimacy. To focus too much on either is missing the
fullness of the relationship available to us, as followers of Christ.
And there are days, as was
mine this morning, when our desire to offer reverence has to be enough. Days when I should be perfectly content in
asking Jesus to pull up a chair in my kitchen, and chat with me over the eggs
that I’m wolfing down on my way to something else. Days when I can simply ask Him for a smile,
because that’s all I have time for, and know that it will be enough, that He
will fill me until a time when I can linger over His presence again.
I am reminded that Christ
was a child once, too. And God knows
there are some days in a mom’s life when she’s just lucky to feed herself amid
the madness. So don’t fret, friend, over
struggling to keep up with the latest and greatest bible studies, or attending
every.single.one of the events geared towards moms at your church. Invite Jesus to eat your meal with you – He certainly
did that quite a bit when He lived in human flesh. And just soak up His presence in the few
moments you can steal from your day. Remember,
He is the God of time and your spirit – He can expand both. 