It begins with inappropriate words uttered over the breakfast table, followed by a discussion of those inappropriate words, followed by a retraction of the promised ice cream outing to Ivanna Cone scheduled for that evening. Then here’s the crying and the wailing and the gnashing of teeth (by both child and mother).
And the next thing I know, the nativity has been rearranged on the coffee table.
Baby Jesus sits in the very center, but instead of the tiny clay wise men and lambs and Joseph and Mary gazing down at him in a close-knit circle of adoration, Rowan has moved each of them to the far corners and edges of the table, with their backs turned to Jesus.
Every lamb, every goat, every angel is turned away from Emmanuel.
“You know, honey,” I say to Rowan when I spot the new arrangement, “even when you turn your back on Jesus, he still lives in your heart.”
No response.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe a revelation of sorts? Maybe I expected Rowan to look up at me all gracious and repentant, a flash of illumination written across his face. It’s Advent, after all. Isn’t Advent supposed to be pretty and perfect? All glittery and shiny and beautiful? A season of anticipation and awaiting and love?
But he didn’t. Rowan turned his back on me, too, and walked away.
There I was, poised to point my finger and start ranting and raving, when I caught another glimpse of those wise men and the sheep turned away from Jesus. And it hit me hard. I do it, too. I’m no different than Rowan. I turn my back on Jesus, too. I walk away from him. I can’t point my finger at Rowan without first pointing at myself.
In the end, the lesson I intended for Rowan is really meant for me. I need the reminder, too – that Jesus is Emmanuel. God with us. No matter what.
I need to remember that even when I turn my back on him, he still lives in my heart. He doesn’t abandon me. He doesn’t walk the other way.
Emmanuel.
God with us.
Amen.
Have you ever had a revelation like that — did you ever suddenly realize that God is with you, no matter what?
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Linking with Jennifer and Emily today:
oh, rowan. he teaches us all so much….this is the first year jack hasn’t rearranged the nativity. a little sad, really.
I had to laugh when I saw all the figures spread out like that. Kids really do speak so clearly in so many ways.
This speaks to me so deeply, Michelle. I have a few things to take care of today. Thank you for sharing.
Love you, Renee!
Oh, Michelle. With my kids this is daily. Here I go imparting a great life lesson and asking out loud: “where did you learn to talk/act/yell/say/behave/think that way???” only to realize as the words are coming out of my mouth: “they learned it from YOU” and be humbly silenced. Children are sent to us, I am convinced, for many purposes, one of which is to make us better people so we can make them adults worthy of the call of Christ. Humbling experience, this parenting.
Humbling is right, Gaby – I realize that again and again!
I see myself in this post. Really…I do. Not a pretty sight, but a necessary reminder. Thank you Michelle.
I know, I know…I didn’t want to see myself here either. It was kind of a shock, really. But I needed that eye-opener (my kids are good at helping me with that!).
Oh , how I love this post Michelle. And I just got a kick out of that picture. ANd yes, I want to cry because although I see ohers doing it I am guilty as well. ANd He so patiently reminds me too…Praise Him who is Faithful. I am so grateful He is…even when I am not. Love this, so much.
It’s amazing how God speaks to us through our children!
So, so true. What a blessing it is that He is always there, pulling us back to him even when are walking away.
Oh, what we can and do learn from our children! Beautiful reminder, Michelle!
I love this Michelle. I’m not sure how you kept a straight face! If I’m honest, more often than not I am the one who needs to learn the lesson. My self-righteous little self wants to point out everyone else’s short-comings when mine are staring me right in the face. I think, perhaps, the Father intends for that to happen. 🙂
Humble and honest. been there as a mother way too often. Love Rowan’s artistic arrangement showcasing his emotions. wow I smiled then breathed it in. Wow. One reason I love Psalm 139 – no matter where I run or hide, God is there. Great post Michelle. Praying you have a wonderful Christmas.
Merry christmas to you too, jean!
I have lost some pieces to my Nativity scene. I don’t know where they went. Jesus is still there, but some of the characters have disappeared.
There’s a revelation in that too!
I’ll have to ponder the metaphorical significance of that david – maybe that there is only one true one needed ro complete the picture ? If jesus goes missing though you had better call a hotline!
Yes. This Advent has only been Advent-y in my private time with God and on Sunday mornings. Lots of weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then yesterday, I heard the Canadian Tenors’ version of “Hallelujah.” It was an Emmanuel moment. All for $1.29.
Merry Christmas, Michelle.
That sounds like the perfect moment. sometimes it hits you all at once like that, doesnt it? Xxoo, megan.
Parenting is so much fun, sometimes. (And so much NOT fun at others.) Good for you for taking something from the moment.