Saturday, December 19, 2009

Immanuel

I am one of the Jesus followers.

One of the ones who knows what Christmas is really about.
Who still says "Merry Christmas" instead of "Happy Holidays."
Who sets up the manger scene and counts down the Advent calendar.
Who reads the 2000-year-old story from Luke 2 to the children on Christmas Day.

Yes, I am one of the Jesus followers.

So...why do I look so little like Him?

That question stings me. It's the one that slices my heart and keeps me awake at night.

Is it Jesus who edges impatience into my voice? Who answers the little one's question, "Mommy, snuggle with me?" with "Not right now honey, Mommy's too busy. We'll snuggle a little later."? Is it Jesus who pounds my head with a headache because I'm running myself ragged with December craziness? Who raises a voice to the four squabbling kids, "Would you guys STOP YELLING AT EACH OTHER?!?" (Good job, Mom - way to lead by example.) Is it Jesus who sighs at the phone call that disrupts a day's well-laid plans like so many puzzle pieces thrown into the air? Is it He who fills my heart with fretful thoughts, while my praise list sits silent for weeks on end? Is it Jesus who has etched a deep wrinkle inbetween my eyebrows - a wrinkle born of too many moments of concentration and frustration - instead of laugh lines at the corners of my eyes?

No, it's not. That's me...not Him.

My heart's deepest cry is to have less of me and more of Him. That desire resonates deeply each time one of my favorite worship songs is sung. More often than not, my heart sings these words silently, because the tears choke out my voice...

Jesus You are, You are
Everything I'm not
And everything that I want to be.
Jesus You are, You are
The Maker of my heart;
Finish what You've started in me.

Transformation is such a frustratingly slow process in my life. If children truly look like their parents...well...that makes my lack of resemblance just plain discouraging. This year, I need Christmas. I need Him to flood my heart again - to come in a personal advent.

Immanuel, come and dwell.

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