Mikki's Blog - Living in the Grace and Love of God » Christmas

Seeing Christmas Through the Gift of Myrrh

Mikki — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 13:05:34 +0000

I love meaningful gifts. What’s a meaningful gift? For me, it’s a gift that says you know me. You understand at least some of the essence of who I am. And it cannot be dishtowels. My hubby and kids all know that I hate getting dishtowels for Christmas (lol, can you tell that I get dishtowels every year from a certain beloved relative?)

The magi brought meaningful gifts to Jesus. Jesus, being just a small child, certainly couldn’t grasp the significance of the gifts but yet they were deeply meaningful. They were prophetic gifts. Frankincense, gold, and myrrh.

I wonder if Joseph and Mary kept the gifts, thought on their meaning, or perhaps, re-gifted? Nah…

This morning I’ve been pondering the gift of myrrh.

Myrrh is derived from tree sap. A tree is wounded, repeatedly, pierced to locate the resin deep inside the tree. The resin then begins to ooze from the cut, dripping out in tear-formed drops which are left to harden on the tree. Later this hardened resin is collected and transformed into something useful. Although myrrh tastes bitter, its fragrance is incredibly beautiful. In the days of Jesus, it was often used in burial and many times symbolized death.

How beautifully this gift spoke of Jesus’ life and death!

Does it speak of your life?

Have you been wounded in this life? Pierced deeply? Repeatedly? Do you have a bitter taste in your mouth from the woundedness?

How can your deep woundedness become a lovely fragrance?

Well, just like myrrh, it is a process that takes time. It costs. The process may involve pain, suffering, bitterness, and hardening, but God’s refining applied to the essence that flows out of our wounded places, can create an aroma that rises from our lives that is a gift. A gift to ourselves, a gift to others, and a gift to God.

Have the wounded places in your life become gifts?

What a great time to ponder the gift that we now have and enjoy that flows out of his wounds.

Seeing Christmas Through the Gift of Myrrh

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When Christmas Doesn’t Live Up to Your Expectations

Mikki — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 15:37:44 +0000

I suppose I’ve always been a romantic at heart, at least in the sense that I have an unspoken belief that life should be full of magical moments that take my breath away. Like many others I’ve believed that Christmas should always be magical.

My romantic ideas have not always served me well. At times, they have sent me on an endless search for a ‘perfect’ gift, or led me to work to exhaustion to present my home in Christmas splendor, moved me to send a hundred Christmas cards, or left me feeling empty when I opened that less than perfect gift.

Life is not always magical, and sometimes falls short of our expectations.

The first Christmas must have been filled with expectations, too. Mary responded with childlike faith to God’s work in her life. She embraced an unexpected pregnancy of miraculous origin. She, no doubt, endured scorn and gossip. She faced Joseph’s honest doubts and struggles. And now, she has journeyed a long way on a donkey. That’s certainly enough to send a very pregnant woman into labor! Speaking as a woman who has delivered four children, it would be enough to make me irritable!

After her long, uncomfortable, exhausting trip, Mary finds herself delivering her firstborn in a stable. Can you say ‘disappointed’?

I am reminded of the birth of our third born child, Elliott. It was November 1992. Indulge me the telling of my funny birth story. You’ll love it.

I awakened at 2:20 a.m. on November 23^rd. “Hmm,” I thought, “Did my water just break?” It was not a dramatic event. I got up and walked around, knowing that if your water breaks, things will expedite. As a few pains began, I decided to get a shower. By mid-shower, my pains were five-minutes apart. I finished my shower and awakened my husband, Eddie. He also wanted to get his shower. I thought it was a bad idea. After all, child number three, two-weeks overdue, a stop to deliver our two children to a friend’s home, an hour drive to the hospital, and contractions five-minutes apart.

“It will only take a minute,” he assured me. I began to put my makeup on. Yes, vanity of vanity. I covered my face with a green, yes green, primer that was supposed to even out my skin tone.

My pain got so intense that I abandoned the makeup idea.

We grabbed the kids, dropped them at our friend’s home, and began the hour drive. My labor accelerated. Eddie accelerated the car. In about thirty minutes, I begged him to stop at a hospital which was en-route to my hospital. “No,” he said, “my baby’s not being born here.” (Do you sense that there is a story behind that?) “Well,” I said, “your baby is going to be born on the side of the road!” He accelerated even more. I didn’t know Toyota’s could move at 90 mph.

We arrived at Baptist Memorial Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee. The doctor suggested Eddie put his scrubs on. He was making phone calls to alert the grandparents in Alabama. “We’re at the hospital and Elliott is going to be born today!” he reported. I remember thinking, “He doesn’t have a clue that I am about to deliver!” When I hurt, I get quiet so I wasn’t clueing him by screaming. I was in my tough endurance mode.

Eddie continued his preparations. He was getting the video cam ready. I heard the doctor tell him, “If you want to see your child born, you better get your scrubs on NOW!”

Elliott arrived at 5:15 a.m., less than three hours after I first wondered if I might be in labor. Let’s just say that natural childbirth is not all it’s cracked up to be. It wasn’t magical. It was painful.

Perhaps I should post a picture of me holding Elliott with mint-green primer on my face??

What a beautiful blessing I received that day! Elliott has always been the kindest, sweetest boy – now a sweet, kind young man.

But the delivery itself wasn’t all magical. It was a mixture of tension and pain and plans gone awry and joy and excitement and anticipation just like the first Christmas.

As I anticipate this Christmas, I am aware that it will not be perfect. It will be a human celebration of a divinely human event. It will have disappointments such as my daughter being in Texas for Christmas Day. It will have joys such as seeing my almost 16 month old granddaughter open her toys.

You see, both joy and disappointment are a reality for us in this life.

How do we navigate the holiday season and our lives in healthy, holy, ways? Here are a few ideas:

Hold your expectations loosely. Unmet expectations can cause us to miss the wonder in the midst of the disappointments.

Look for the silver lining.

Be thankful for the joys.

Turn to God with the disappointments.

I do wish you all a Merry Christmas this year. May you find God both in your joys and in your disappointments.

When Christmas Doesn't Live Up to Your Expectations

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Christmas Eve Gift

Mikki — Fri, 24 Dec 2010 13:26:36 +0000

When I was a little girl, I believed in Santa. I was the last of my classmates to find out that Santa was really my mom and dad. I can still feel how defensive I became when my friends told me that there was no Santa. After all, I had been to Santa’s Village and actually seen the reindeer in Hope Valley, California!

I remember finding my “Santa” Christmas gifts hidden away at my house. Tears flowed freely. How embarrassing to defend Santa to my friends and then find out that he didn’t exist! It actually took me several years to forgive my parents for “lying” to me. How could they set me up for such a painful fall?

It seemed to me that Christmas was never the same afterwards. The magic was gone. I adamantly refused to teach my own children that there was a Santa. It wasn’t for the religious reasons that many of my friends espoused although I believed that Christmas was about Jesus. It was because I WOULD NOT lie to my kids.

One time my mother-in-law had my daughter’s picture made in Santa’s lap. Oh my goodness, my husband and I just about had a “come-a-loose”, each of us for our own reasons. Some twenty-three years later, I think I probably overreacted just a little.

I think my kids have survived my anti-Santa regimen. They seem fairly well-adjusted. Of the two of them that are married, one is sticking to the anti-Santa/Jesus is the reason for the season/ program and one is probably going to go the Santa route when her children arrive. My younger two seem happy enough because there are gifts under the tree, and as for me, I still struggle with Christmas.

I love the family times. I love the wonderful food. I love the Christmas decorations.

I do have the important things. My family is all tucked into our warm house. My daughter and son-in-law are here, too, and even my mother is here.

The menu just keeps getting yummier. We are starting today with pumpkin cream cheese spread and bagels, donated by my vegan daughter. Later, Paula Deen’s Rigatoni and Sausage Bake will simmer in the oven. Spinach dip, cookies galore, cheese balls, and more await us and it’s only Christmas Eve. Tomorrow will be the real kicker.

Christmas music fills the air. Karen Carpenter sings Merry Christmas Darling, and Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra add their songs.

Snow is forecasted for Christmas Day, a rarity for those of us in North Alabama.

I literally stuffed everyone’s stockings to the top last night.

So everything is ready. Well, maybe my heart needs a little work.

I have a few bad Christmas memories to release, and I’m working on that. After all, Christmas and the ability to dream are inextricably joined together. From the very first Christmas, dreams were a part of the magic, from Joseph to the Wise Men, God showed up and gave hope and direction in their dreams.

I will work through my Christmas ambivalence. I will cry a little if I need to, mourning those who aren’t here and the loss of Santa and some of my grown-up Christmas dreams, but when it’s all said and done, I expect that it’s gonna be a wonderful holiday.

My dad had one particular Christmas tradition that I have held onto. He loved to be the first in the family to say, “Christmas Eve gift”. Whoever remembered to say it first, got a big kiss. It’s the one tradition that has endured for me. I’m about to go give some kisses to my family and celebrate the simplicity of love and life and Christmas dreams.

And Christmas Eve gift to all of you. I send my Christmas kisses and wishes of love and joy and peace for you all today. May your holiday be all you dream of.

Christmas Eve Gift

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