Life as We Know It

The truth is that even as life goes on, there's something inside of us that's wishing it wouldn't. Something inside of us that's believing it will change. Something inside of us that needs life to change. 

Nobody in Israel had forgotten the 400-year-old prophecy that the Messiah was coming; it just didn't affect their day-to-day living. And even after a little baby was born in a manger in a small town on a cold night, it still didn't affect their day-to-day. At least not for several more years, when Jesus would truly come onto the scene and start showing the world who He was.

If you're like me, you always want Christmas to be the start of something. You want to take all of the hope that's wrapped up into this moment, into this morning, and you want to use it to set a new tone for your life. To turn some things around. To set yourself free. To start something new. To quit something you should have quit a long time ago. To finally live the kind of life you are supposed to be living. 

You want Christmas to be the day. In all the stillness, with all the light in the dark, with the joy all around, with the family, with everyone being so friendly and magnanimous. With all the hope...

There's something about the hope, isn't there? Two thousand years ago, Israel had a hope for the Savior of the World, the messiah who would set them free, the redemption that was coming their way. And if there's one thing we still have two thousand years later, it's the hope. 

We can't quite put our finger on it. We know the story. We know how it started and how it ends. And yet, there's still something distant about it. Something that can become humdrum as we do it again and again every year. And yet...the hope still holds on. We cannot help but keep hoping that something incredible happens at Christmas, and we all want to grab hold of that hope and carry it with us into the life that we most want to be living. Into the relationship with God that we so desire to have. 

But the truth is that no matter how mindful we are this Christmas morning, no matter how intentional, no matter how well we do what we're hoping to do, to borrow (sort of) a phrase from our Easter worship...Monday's a-comin'. 

We have this beautiful holiday, this moment of rest, this time of reflection and reconnection and inspiration and hope, but just a few days from now, our lives are going back to the way they were last week. We're going back to work, the kids are going back to school, we'll turn the pages on our calendars and find the same grind that we just got out of, for just a moment. 

And somehow, on Monday, the Christmas magic melts. We fall back into old routines. We revert to our auto-pilot. We clock in, sit down, and do the very same things we always did until we clock out, go home, and do the very same things we did, and nothing feels different about work or home or family or chores or anything at all in our lives. They are exactly the same as they were before the baby was born in the manger. 

And...now what? 

We beat ourselves up for losing it all so quickly. For not being able to hold onto that hope. For not being able to live like the world is different for even one simple day, one regular day. We are failures...again...this Christmas. How do we keep doing this? 

But there is still good news...