It was an emotional afternoon in our house, in the living room specifically. The dog had shredded a toy on the floor, and I had asked my son to vacuum the floor. Pine needles, bits of wrapping paper and ribbon, dog toy fluff…they all needed to disappear.
So, he tried, bless him,…and the vacuumed died. I needed to compile a Sunday school craft, finish preparing dinner for my husband, unpack the bags I had just dragged in from the ‘final shopping trip’, and find out why my daughter was sulking in her room. I didn’t have time to deal with a sucky (or not-so-sucky) vacuum.
Nevertheless, I sat down and began dismembering the machine. Mounds of dog hair, pine needles, and other floor funk began piling up in front of me as I checked this tube and that tube, this connection and that connection. And my emotions began piling up as well. “I have too much to do to deal with this stupid vacuum. We should just buy a new one. There are good sales at this time of year. But we’ve just spend Christmas money. Maybe we should wait. But how long can we go without a vacuum?? I don’t even have time for this now! I have to get stuff put together for church, dinner, gifts…ugh!!!!”
I reached around the Christmas tree to unplug the vacuum in hopelessness. And he smiled at me.
Little baby Jesus. In his manger. The whole reason for this season.
His tiny, precious face caught my attention and gave me pause. It’s all about this beautiful baby, not all the other chaos.
This season of celebration is about his arrival to earth. His presence and promise make our lives more full of love and hope and relationship. He valued the women he encountered. The busy, frustrated, tired, weary women. The mothers, wives, entrepreneurs, leaders…the oppressed, sick, unfaithful, confused…they all found acceptance when they encountered Jesus. Despite their past struggles, their current predicaments, or what they thought were their future plans, they found compassion with him.
He smiled at them. He lightened their loads. He gave them renewed purpose. He restored their souls.
Look to him, weary mothers. He loves you more than your efforts. He values you more than your attempts. Let him smile at you. Let him know you. Let him restore you.