These Days In-Between

This year we ended our Christmas celebrations with fevers and sleepless nights.
One by one, my family has gotten taken out, and I have been trying to power through on the Grace of God…and coffee. Mmmmm coffee.
(The flu shot may also have been a benefit for me this year).

Honestly, these days after Christmas are always a bit wearying for me, even without sickness to deal with. My head often feels foggy, my heart a little bit sad, and I have this insatiable desire to stay in my pjs and sleep.

Do you ever feel this way too?

When I survey the stresses that seem to accompany this beautiful holiday, I am not too surprised. It could be the exhaustion setting in from the uphill climb of trying to do all the things before Christmas, the mental fatigue from the ridiculous amount of planning this time of year seems to require, or the depletion that comes from navigating strained or complicated relationships, or expectations. Even the energy it takes to create beautiful memories, cook and enjoy wonderful meals, and attend multiple gatherings can be more output than we are used to and leave us longing for some days alone in our PJs.

I wonder though, how much this post-Christmas slump for me has to do with the way that the anticipation leading up to Christmas always seems to peak without delivering on my expectations.
Christmas comes, as it always does, and it is always nice, but it always leaves me longing. The countdown to Christmas never seems to lead to the euphoria that is promised. And that leads me here; wearing weariness the way I wear sweatpants, too much caffeine (is that such a thing?), and monitoring my children’s temperatures like its my job.

Right about now, you might be reminded of the climactic conversation in A Charlie Brown Christmas:

Charlie Brown:  “I guess I don’t really know what Christmas is all about it. Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?”
Linus: Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about….
"Lights, please."

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them,
And the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men’.
(Luke 2:9-14 KJV)

Friends, many of us know this story by heart. Each Christmas we celebrate this moment that changed all of history, giving praise to our promise-keeping God, and anticipating the second coming of our Saviour when He will make all things right in this world again. And yet, even so, there is this let down in the days after Christmas. This weariness and exhaustion that fills the spaces once Christmas has gone.

We have three beautiful children ages 5, 3, and 1. Christmas brought gifts and laughter, memories, and celebration…But it also brought fighting and meltdowns. We had nap time and fevers and stories and baths. It had a similar rhythm to every other day, except that it was called ‘Christmas,’ and there was more of everything. More people, more food, more sweets, more meltdowns.…just more. But also just  “normal.”

As I rocked my littlest to sleep in the nursery and snuggled my biggest after a scary dream on Christmas Day, I thought of Mary, the new mama to the Son of God, and the very first Christmas in Bethlehem.

Did you know that Jesus birth narratives in the bible do not describe anything miraculous happening in the stable on the night that Jesus was born?
Scripture does not tell us that angels were present as Jesus was birthed in a bed of hay, as our nativity scenes so often place them. Instead, scriptures reveal that a multitude of angels made their appearance out in the fields among the lowly Shepherds, heralding the good news of Jesus’ birth to the men watching their sheep by night.

I have had the deep privilege of giving birth to my three beautiful babies. All three births were different and all three were miracles, and yet all three were so normal.
The lead up to birth is intense. The physical journey a woman goes through to bring a baby into this world is unlike any other experience she will ever go through. Contractions, heaviness, feeling like your body is going to be broken apart, and then… they are here. A new born baby is placed on your chest, and the flood of hormones and love, and relief. And as miraculous as it is, it is also so “normal.” Human.
Life has changed forever, and yet there are diapers that need to be changed. There is no multitude of angels, or euphoria or ecstasy. There is the tired and foggy, beauty of holding a new life. There is blood soaked pads, and walking awkwardly, and recovering from birth, and the beauty found in holding a sweet little baby and marvelling in the reality that God knit together a human being within your womb and there they are - literally flesh of your flesh and bone of your bone. Made in the image of God, and also in the likeness of you.

And Mary?
I wonder if she expected…more?
She had pondered in her heart the reality of birthing the Son of God.
And yet, her body had contracted and brought forth a son mingled in water and blood, and she wrapped him in cloths and held him tight in a bed of hay. And there was no multitude of angels welcoming him. In the quiet of the night in Bethlehem, in a manger, He came. Caught by the hands of his step-father Jospeh, and held with the promise that He would become who the angel had said He would be.

In the days that followed that first Christmas, was Mary weary also? Weary from birth, from the pregnant anticipation of birthing the Son of God? Shortly after his birth, Mary and Joseph fled as refugees from Bethlehem to Egypt (Matthew 2:13-23) after Jospeh had a dream and Herod swept through the land in a murderous stupor. That was likely not what Mary had been expecting following the birth of the long awaited Messiah.

Friends, as we linger here in the days between Christmas and New Years, its okay to feel weary. In the weeks leading up to Christmas we waited with anticipation to celebrate the birth of Jesus, and in the months ahead we will journey towards Easter, and remembering His death on a Roman Cross.

And our current reality? Jesus is alive and at the right hand of the Father.
But we are still waiting. Anticipating. Longing.
With celebration. With thanksgiving. With hope.
But also with grief, with lament, and with an ache that will not fully go away until Jesus comes again and brings with Him peace, Judgement, and Healing to this beautiful, aching world… and wholeness to each of our wounded and weary hearts.

So, if you find yourself weary in these days after Christmas?
Me too.
But, even in our weariness, may we be watchful…prayerful… hopeful.