As it is the holiday season, Brock and I have found ourselves traveling more than usual. We got to spend Thanksgiving week in Bend, Oregon with my mom's side of the family. It was the first time since Labor Day weekend that my immediate family had all been together.
I wish I had words to describe how special it is to me when we are all together. The amount of laughter, love, and chaos that goes on, is so priceless. I found myself soaking in every little second and breathing in a little deeper in those minutes because I want them to last longer and longer. The older I have gotten, the more I have realized how blessed I am to have grown up with such solid parents to lead us and such wise siblings to follow after. I am so in love with my family. :)
For a present for our Grandparents, we took pictures on their beautiful property.
This past weekend, Brock let me go have a 'Girls' weekend' in Pullman. On Sunday, my little brother and I went to the church that I went to all through college. The pastor had such an amazing message that made me immediately reflect back on the meaning of my blog's title 'Nothing but Clay'.
My whole life I have grown up with the story of 'Jesus being born in a manger' being ingrained in my head. With my wild imagination, I pictured this beautiful barn, the cattle and other animals surrounding Mary and Joseph, and it being this beautiful experience. However, my imagination bubble was popped when I went to church this Sunday. For some reason, I had never truly studied what really happened that night. For one thing, I think it may be because I wanted it to be beautiful. Jesus deserves only the best. As the pastor showed pictures and examples of what the actual night of his birth may have looked like, tears began to fill my eyes. I wish I could go in to details of how uncomfortable, cold, and un-magical this night was for Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. However, I will leave that up to you to research.
Especially during the Christmas season, I have found myself obsessing over things! Its sick. Or I find that I have higher expectations for things to go perfectly. It is something about Christmas, that we as Americans, assume that everything will be better. It is another time of the year where like to mend our cracks and holes (so no one will see them) in order not to ruin the holidays.
The real story of Christmas was a great reality check. There are too many times where we think that God is not here when things are not going the way we think things should go. However, if we look at the real Christmas story in its context, we will realize a few humbling facts.
Divine incarnation came next to cow pies, sheep manure, in a cold clammy dark dungeon.
I now realize that God had to come this way. For example, if he would have been born as a king, it would have made him inaccessible to anyone less than elite. BUT, since Jesus was born to us this way, it makes a world of a difference.
In my translation, Jesus being born this way is him saying that:
'There is no one lower than me. There is no one so low that you can't find me. There is no one so low that can't be redeemed, reconciled, or loved by me.'
This is the REAL beauty of the Christmas story. The way that it happens gives people like you and me access to God. It is so exciting to know that it doesn't matter what we have done, how damaging we have been to ourselves or others. Jesus came here for ME. That is good news. This is the real story of hope. A gift that is worth celebrating.
