Make Room

I've spent the last few weeks doing something I seem to do every year at this time of year.  Some prefer to do it in the spring.  I prefer right before Christmas.

I initiate an all-out clean-out.  No closet, no drawer, no cabinet, no space under any bed is ignored.  

Trash bags in hand, we conquer the clutter.  We release what we have no use for any longer.  We toss what needs to be thrown away, and we organize what we want to keep.

Because I know more is coming in the next few weeks in the form of gifts, some of the old has to go in order to make room for the new.  If we don't, there's no room for the new.

And since I'm naturally a lover of all things organized and all things tidy, this makes my heart very happy to purge out the old, the unnecessary and seldom used.  Unfortunately, the process is not often met with the same zeal by my oldest daughter, who would be perfectly content to keep every nook and cranny just as it is.  

But as her most wise, most discerning mama, I know there is work to be done.  So this year, in an attempt to avoid any (& all) emotional drama, I told her an intervention would take place on a particular day and she, the occupant, would be responsible for accomplishing the task.  

Cue the pouting, sulking, and tears.  

A few hours into it, little progress was being made.  So an intervention did take place.  I intervened and helped her sort through her mess. Though I thought letting her handle her stuff all by herself was the way to go this year, it was not.  Through tears, she admitted, "I still need your help; it's just too hard to do by myself."  It was too much for her to handle and she was overwhelmed by it all.

Our plan:  divide the room into zones and tackle them one by one.  A couple days later and a couple trash bags later, she hugged me and said, "This feels awesome! Thank you for helping me, Mama."

Crisis (& clutter) averted.  Mission accomplished. Everybody's happy, happy, happy.

Until the the Holy Spirit pressed into my heart.

You see, I'm really good at taking care of business with my physical surroundings. Preparing our home for all the new gifts.  But what about my spiritual surroundings?  What about preparing my very own heart, the wellspring of life?  

So the last couple of weeks I've been thinking about just that.  Christmas will be here soon.  I've been doing so many things to get ready.  Shopping. Decorating.  Planning.  All good things preparing for one great day.  

But is there room? 

Have I intentionally cleaned out what's been piling up for some time?

Am I making room, turning my affection toward the most precious Gift ever given?  

The other stuff is just that, stuff.  I, too, need an intervention from time to time.  I need Jesus to intervene, to guide me in releasing what needs to go: unnecessary expectations, disappointments, judgments, unforgiveness, distractions, selfishness, etc., etc., etc.  

The main way I find to do that is by recognizing Advent, acknowledging that Christ has come, is coming again one day, and is present with us now. Last night was the first night of Advent this calendar year. 

As I sat with my family and read from Bartholomew's Passage, our Advent story this year, I could feel some shifting, some rearranging and some purging happening as the Holy Spirit began to take care of business.  

No pouting, no sulking and no tears on my part.  

Happy to oblige.  

Happy to have Someone helping me with the process.  

Happy to be making room.

"While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  

She wrapped Him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."  

Luke 2:6-7

Help, Lord.  Help us clean out all the clutter, all that has hidden You.  You are the child that was born. You are the Son that was given. You are the Warrior King who's coming again.  You are Emmanuel, here with us now. Forgive us for unknowingly crowding You out as those did in Bethlehem the night You came. Make room in our hearts for You.  Amen.

Coming Soon

For the last four weeks, our family has been participating in something we've never done before.  We've been observing Advent. 

Neither my husband, nor I, grew up celebrating Advent.  Neither of us were familiar with its traditions or meaning.  Though I'd read of other families who observed Advent and had even seen an Advent candle wreath in a church, I had no prior knowledge of what the season truly meant. 

This year I had to know.  I had to know its meanings and why so many observed it.  What I discovered and what I have experienced has changed me.  Forever. 

The word, "Advent" means "coming".  During the season of Advent, which typically begins four Sundays before Christmas and ends on Christmas Eve, we are reminded of our desperate need for a Savior. 

As we are celebrating His first "coming", as a baby in Bethlehem, we are also looking forward to His second "coming", as our Righteous King from heaven. 

Advent, as I am learning, is also all about waiting.  And nobody likes to wait.  We all want what we want when we want it.  Now.  Or maybe even yesterday.

Advent reminds us of how long the ancient Jews had to wait for their promised Messiah.  How they yearned for Someone to deliver them.  To heal them.  To redeem them.  To make all things new.

As they waited, they endured.  They endured even though they couldn't always see what God was doing.  They trusted.  They hoped.  They believed, all while they waited. 

It's the same thing for us today. 

We wait.  We endure.  We look ahead, and above, for the promise of Christ's return.  We wait with great expectation.  We hope for what we cannot see.  And in the waiting we are changed.  We become even more grateful for all gifts when they are finally received.

Focusing on the hope of Christ's coming is helping our family to slow down and remember how great His gift truly is. 

Each night as we come together to read the Advent devotions from Ann Voskamp's "Jesse Tree Journey", we are taken back through the holy scriptures.  We journey through Old Testament accounts and find significant meaning and prophetic connections to the One who came two thousand years ago. 

And because He came, we can come. 

We can come boldly and freely to His throne of grace.  (Heb. 4:16)
We can come to Him and never go hungry.  (John 6:35)
We can come, thirsty, and take the free gift of water of life.  (Rev. 22:17)
We can come take our inheritance, the kingdom which was promised for us since the creation of the world.  (Matt. 25:34)
We can come out of our boat as Peter did and walk on water.  (Matt. 14:28-29)
We can come and follow Him, becoming fishers of men.  (Mark 1:17)
We can come to Him when we are weary and burdened down with life.  (Matt. 11:28)
And our little children can come, too, because the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as them.
(Matt. 19:14)

He extends His invitation to us to come.  To come worship Him.  To come bow down Him.  To adore Him, Emmanuel, this Christmas.

If He never came, then we could not come.

Thank You, Jesus, for coming.  Thank You for Advent.  Thank You for the chance to focus on You.  Thank You for the chance to celebrate Christmas with more meaning and more depth.  I needed it.

"He who testifies to these things says, 'Yes, I am coming soon.' 

Amen.  Come, Lord Jesus." (Rev. 22:20)