Enriched in Christmas

I have a picture of Christmas. It's a new one, still stuck in my head, but maybe one day I'll sit down and draw it, hang it by my desk, see it every day and remember the picture of Christmas.

Because I have other pictures too. Or at least, I've been living like I do.

I have a picture of Christmas: a girl, strangely like me, who's busy. She tries to get gifts for everyone, to do enough, to be "christmas-y" enough. So she writes letters and licks envelopes and rushes around wondering where "peace" and "joy" is.

But today I took that picture down. I'm replacing it with a new one.

In one corner, there's a bag of gifts. They're small, sweet, with candles and chocolate and a long, beautiful letter, special like the girl who gave them to me. There's a sticker too, "I'm praying for you." And somehow, that gift is the best one I could have gotten all Christmas season long.

That's part of my Christmas picture, but there's more. Across the top in flourishes and designs, there's a word that's beautiful. I read it slowly.

Enriched.

To abound. To bring fullness. Richness.

Enriched.

Enriched in Jesus, in the Person of Christmas. Just like it says in 1 Corinthians.

So that in everything you were [exceedingly] enriched in Him...

- 1 Corinthians 1:5 (AMP)

And there's the last part of the Christmas picture.

It's the same one I draw every year. The same little stable, the same star, the same dark night with deep blues and purples.

It's enriched. It's Jesus, rich and beautiful and good and wanting to shower us with Himself, fill us with the peace and joy of Christmas. It's more than the rush and the hurry. Despite my scribbles and stick people, it's beautiful.

Because everything points to that. The little gift my friend gave me, it points to Him. It's all this gift that enriches us - Jesus.

Like when He walked on earth, Jesus enriched everything He touched. The storms stilled. Water turned to wine. The lame walked. The world found a picture of fullness.

That's what "enriched" is - it's drawing right beside Jesus so that we start becoming like Him. It's us, crawling next to the manger, experiencing Christmas firsthand.

That's my picture of Christmas. It's my dream, my heart, my hope, my prayer. I might add more - include my little sister giggling in my arms as we shop for friends' gifts. Or the times of singing, friends gathered together, us praising Jesus as one family.

All of it, enriched. Beautiful pictures, flowing together. And us, drawing closer to Jesus, huddling beside the manger, being enriched because of Him, loving because of Him, intimate knowledge.

I have a picture of Christmas. I'm in it too, right beside the manger. And that's where I need to stay forever. It reminds me to remember, rejoice.

Maybe you could make one too.

But until then, Merry Christmas, dear one. You're so incredibly loved.  ♥

   

For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich.

- 2 Corinthians 8:9

~♥~

Supine || a poem

Supine

it’s been so long.

forgotten hideaway I used to roam

but I’m here again –

remembering old memories

or rather, making new ones.

this memory is my favorite,

as I lay here, wince,

remove the branchy thorns,

and try again.

face to the sky

I hear birds and bugs, cows lowing

far away.

but my eyes

they’re blurry.

am I going to cry or have I just forgotten how

to see?

it’s been so long.

me writing, paper in the air

above me, blocking the sky.

I lower it, try to glimpse

twinkles of yellow leaves,

colors of fall with kisses of spring,

and under the gold, colors indescribable:

like green, but yellower

or brown, but richer.

the tree bark –

true black, grey, brown

and snippets of minty moss creeping up.

it’s been so long.

I wonder why.

because now I smell leaves

moist from yesterday’s rain.

I see little bugs dancing

and a piece of white fuzz

fly past without wings –

little miracles as I lay

and smile.

a tree with limbs broken like a ladder;

I could climb to Jesus

if only I could reach the first branch.

I wonder why I forgot

and how I can see again

so I remember

as God gives me this new memory.

I lay, and He

lifts me higher

than I could ever go.

somehow He loves me

~♥~

Why You Should Be a Child Again

Little fingers curl around my skirt.  Pull, gentle.  When I look down, I see her face, my baby sister, pointing another finger towards the door.  She makes her familiar "can we go outside" sound.  It actually sounds like, "Ticka, ticka, ticka?"

So we do.  I curl my arms around her and escape into the outside world.

Noise doesn't still.  It's louder here with the geese honking.  But the air is fresh, and we explore.  Together, we pet kitties, zoom down slides, eat kale fresh from the gardens.  And then we sit.

She's on my lap, me sitting cross-legged on the woodchips.  And we just stay there.  Looking across the chicken pasture, we watch birds.  Pecking.  Squawking.  Calling to each other.  They eat bugs and ruffle their feathers and chase each other across the yard.  The chickens act like... well, chickens.  They do what they always do.

But there's a difference.  Because this time, I'm here.  I'm watching.  And somehow, I'm really seeing it.

Minutes pass.  We stay there until I slowly bring my little sister into my arms and we rise.  Walking barefoot through the garden again, we eat a little from every plant.  Then go inside again.

And I remember the moment.  Those small moments I somehow capture forever.  Like that time I sat and wrote a poem.  Or the day when a stranger waved at me.  Or the other man who looked into my eyes and I felt Jesus in him.

Those tiny moments.  They're somehow huge.

I just wonder, wonder why we don't embrace the world like we used to.  Why we're not still loving like babies do, eager to see the world in all its beauty.

Why can I walk through a crowd and not see all those faces?  Why don't I care and love them and want to learn their stories and know their names?

Why can I live a day without laughing or smiling at something beautiful and go to bed without thinking something was off?

How can I call myself a daughter of the King and not rejoice constantly in His goodness and the gifts He pours out upon me?  How could I ever complain or feel nothing when I've been given everything?

I want to be a child again.  I want to run back into the woods, hide from the schedules and expectations I make myself.  I want to live as the woman God made me to be instead of worrying about the eyes who might judge me.

Life is about Love.  It's about this huge Love that wraps around me with every sunrise because I know Jesus is there.  And that same Love should be overflowing from my life as I savor Jesus and share Him with the world.

Love is bigger than the world, wider than our minds can grasp.  Yet those little moments - sitting on the woodchips to watch chickens peck in the dust - there I find it.  I remember.

And right now as I type, I wonder when was the last time I did that.  When did I hear a song and stop to truly listen?  When did I take time to care about what a person told me?  When did I see the beauty in the things I see every day?

Once before we performed a final showcase for a play, the director sat down with us.  Our eyes met.

"Seize the day," she said, and I did.  I lived every scene, treasuring it.  I watched faces and loved them.  I smiled bigger, talked clearer, stood taller.  It was my last moment in the play, so I lived it to the fullest.

Today is a specific day you won't ever have again.  But are we going to seize it?

It's not about stuff or schedules or successes.  All of that could be thrown out the window, and we'd still have a purpose.  In fact, it might be easier to see then.

Jesus.

Loving, rejoicing, praising Him.  Oh, how I wish this was my constant heart, to just praise Him continually!

We need to be children again.  Not whining, impatient children but eyes that see the world anew.  That love people despite their appearances.  That want to touch, taste, hear the beauty around us.  The beauty God gave us to live in.

When was the last time you really saw the world around you and thanked God for the beauty of it?  What if we stopped pretending and really lived, really felt, really loved, and really looked for Jesus right now?

I want to rejoice in the Lord always.

Maybe it starts by the chicken yard.

This is the day the Lord has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it.

- Psalm 118:24

~♥~