I’m reading an insightful little book that a neighbor brought over for us that suggests ways our families can put the Joy of the season back into our homes.
At one point, the author poses the question, “If you could be one character from the Nativity story, who would you want to be?’
I went through each character, and even some of the animals in my mind, and none seemed to fit. After some pondering, here is my answer:
I want to be the lady next door. The one who gave Mary cookies when she was little, who was her youth-group leader; taught her about chastity and honesty and truth. I want to be the one she confided her news to, the one who accepted her story and loved her and gave her a reassuring hug. Who rejoiced with her, cried with her and worried about her.
I want to help her pack and get ready for her journey, show her the latest trend in newborn swaddling, pray for her and her new husband, watch over her house while she’s gone, and then prepare it for her return.
I don’t want my name, or even my acts recorded in the scriptures. I just want to hold the tiny Christ-child while Mary bathes and naps after her journey.
I’ll bring her dinner one night when he’s three-months old and all the hoopla has died down, when Mary is surely exhausted and discouraged and can’t even brush her teeth. I'll listen quietly to her story.
Then, if she let me, I'd rock Him while she ate, and bury my face in his hair, inhale his Heavenly sweetness, and secretly wish he were mine, as I do with every other baby on the planet.
And I’d have the wordless joy of one who is an instrument in His hands. I’ll feel the sacred delight of holding one of God’s children, fresh from His presence. THE CHILD.
And like the accompanist who knows that if she has done her job, chances are that no one will have noticed her at all, I will honored to be like so many other angels around us, who serve and build and bless in small ways each day, and change the world one little act at a time.