walking the line

We giggle together over unique looking gingerbread creations, licking our fingers and getting sugar-high.  In church, we see a video of people dying from Ebola and feel the weight.

Mark shares research on what the average American spends on Christmas.  The total sounds preposterous, yet we embarrassingly realize that - despite our attempts for minimalism - our budgeted number isn't that far off from average.  

We have talks about the heart of Christmas - love, generosity, peace on earth through the coming of Jesus.  Five minutes later, we have hurtful words thrown about, indignation over sharing, brawls within our own walls.

I spend time making phone calls for parents to send in treats for a class holiday party, while a friend cries over realities of a third world country.

* * * * *

The Advent season is so good, giving ample opportunity to pull back and dig deep.  We remember the simple truths, and we look more intentionally to serve others.  We find comfort in traditions, in family.

Yet as we experience the luxury of celebrating, there are people living in everyday danger.  People who haven't ever eaten a cookie but would do anything for our freezer-burned bread crusts.  People who have no one choosing them a meaningful gift.  People whose traditions are emptier because family ties are severed.  People standing in the holiday scurry, feeling like it is one more thing passing them by.  

How do we wrap our children in the love of tradition and family while not misusing our resources?  How do we use the season to focus our hearts instead of letting our minds get lost in the first-world hype of the holidays?  How should we even view what we have in light of all others do not?

How does one walk this line well?

* * * * *

I'm noticing Christmas offering a clearer mirror into our everyday living, our inner priorities.  Our time and money are most likely being pressed on more than any other time of the year, and such pressure often reveals what truly lies beneath.

Do we think of others just when we have extra time and money, or are we letting ourselves be interrupted and inconvenienced for the needs of others?  Is our everyday work for doing all things as unto the Lord, or for satisfying self and culture?

I still don't know how to process the disparity of it all.  I just know that when I feel the tumult of gift-buying and the holiday-schedule, I have to step back and ask Jesus where He is in it all.  And in those magical moments when I find myself already breathing deeply and knowing Peace, I have to thank Him for never giving up on me.  I have to celebrate the moments when my kids happily give of themselves for others, yet I must also delight in their excitement over what the holiday brings to them personally.

It turns out, walking the line isn't actually very straight.  There are times of regularly veering off the path - but He is in front of us, continually calling us forward, saying This is the way, walk in it.  So we listen and take the next step.