Coco and a sleepy Little BenIt’s not going to be long before it takes a forklift to carry my “to do” list: Christmas cards to address, special December dinners to prepare, gifts to buy and wrap, end-of-the-year reports to write, and more. And I’ve not even mentioned the normal activities that routinely crowd the schedule—things like sermon preparation, meetings, writing assignments and correspondence, and the day-to-day tasks that keep the house somewhat organized, clean clothes in the dressers, and food on the table.
As much as I try, I’m just not keeping up, although my schedule is considerably reduced this year. One big reason for the lag is a soon-to-be-two-year-old named Benjamin, our grandson. He and his mother arrived at our house on December 3. Need I say more?
Every time I sit down at the computer, my little shadow comes calling. “Coco, book,” he says, pulling on my hand and meaning, “Read to me, Coco” (his name for me). Or, “Coco, blocks.” Translated, “Let’s play with the blocks together.” Or, “Coco, kick soccer ball.” Or any number of other invitations—actually quite persistent summons to spend time with him. My heart melts and I’m completely defenseless, pressing work or not. After all, how long will this little boy actually want to spend time with his Coco? And how many chances will his Coco have to devote herself to him? I realize that if I miss these opportunities with Little Ben, I am never guaranteed of others to come in the future. It’s now or, perhaps, never. And so I put away my tasks and get down on the floor with Benjamin, loving every minute that we have to share together.
I’m reminded of a book of daily meditations I’m reading this Advent and Christmas season. Of the 13 or so I’ve read to date, “To Be a Virgin,” by Loretta Ross-Gotta, has been the most thought-provoking. Bernie and I will soon celebrate Christmas with our son, daughter, grandson, and other family members. We’ll also celebrate our thirty-fourth wedding on January 10. How can I be a virgin, as the author suggests we must all be—men and women included—if we will truly prepare our hearts for Christmas?
Ross-Gotta writes, “The intensity and strain that many of us bring to Christmas must suggest to some onlookers that, on the whole, Christians do not seem to have gotten the point of [Christmas]. Probably few of us have the faith or the nerve to tamper with hallowed Christmas traditions on a large scale, or with our other holiday celebrations. But a small experiment might prove interesting. What if, instead of doing something, we were to be something special? Be a womb. Be a dwelling for God. Be surprised.”
The Virgin Mary made herself available to God for his purposes (to be the mother of God’s Son) when she responded to the angel, “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said” (Luke 1:38). In her case, she literally was a womb for God. In my case, I can be that virgin in another way—by putting away my “to do” list and offering myself to God for what he wants to do in and through me not only in this season, but also during all 365 days of the year to come.
Just as my heart melts whenever my grandson, in his irresistible way, invites me to play, may it also respond passionately whenever God comes, as he did to Mary, and declares to me, “I need you.” May I never hesitate to obey from a heart of love for his gift of Jesus: babe in a manger, Savior on a cross, and the way to eternal life forever with the Father.
As much as I try, I’m just not keeping up, although my schedule is considerably reduced this year. One big reason for the lag is a soon-to-be-two-year-old named Benjamin, our grandson. He and his mother arrived at our house on December 3. Need I say more?
Every time I sit down at the computer, my little shadow comes calling. “Coco, book,” he says, pulling on my hand and meaning, “Read to me, Coco” (his name for me). Or, “Coco, blocks.” Translated, “Let’s play with the blocks together.” Or, “Coco, kick soccer ball.” Or any number of other invitations—actually quite persistent summons to spend time with him. My heart melts and I’m completely defenseless, pressing work or not. After all, how long will this little boy actually want to spend time with his Coco? And how many chances will his Coco have to devote herself to him? I realize that if I miss these opportunities with Little Ben, I am never guaranteed of others to come in the future. It’s now or, perhaps, never. And so I put away my tasks and get down on the floor with Benjamin, loving every minute that we have to share together.
I’m reminded of a book of daily meditations I’m reading this Advent and Christmas season. Of the 13 or so I’ve read to date, “To Be a Virgin,” by Loretta Ross-Gotta, has been the most thought-provoking. Bernie and I will soon celebrate Christmas with our son, daughter, grandson, and other family members. We’ll also celebrate our thirty-fourth wedding on January 10. How can I be a virgin, as the author suggests we must all be—men and women included—if we will truly prepare our hearts for Christmas?
Ross-Gotta writes, “The intensity and strain that many of us bring to Christmas must suggest to some onlookers that, on the whole, Christians do not seem to have gotten the point of [Christmas]. Probably few of us have the faith or the nerve to tamper with hallowed Christmas traditions on a large scale, or with our other holiday celebrations. But a small experiment might prove interesting. What if, instead of doing something, we were to be something special? Be a womb. Be a dwelling for God. Be surprised.”
The Virgin Mary made herself available to God for his purposes (to be the mother of God’s Son) when she responded to the angel, “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said” (Luke 1:38). In her case, she literally was a womb for God. In my case, I can be that virgin in another way—by putting away my “to do” list and offering myself to God for what he wants to do in and through me not only in this season, but also during all 365 days of the year to come.
Just as my heart melts whenever my grandson, in his irresistible way, invites me to play, may it also respond passionately whenever God comes, as he did to Mary, and declares to me, “I need you.” May I never hesitate to obey from a heart of love for his gift of Jesus: babe in a manger, Savior on a cross, and the way to eternal life forever with the Father.
