The Baby.

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The Baby.

Nothing in my whole life could have prepared me to be a mother.

The first Christmas my son was here I was so stressed trying to figure out how to get him to sleep, get him to eat on a normal schedule (not every hour and a half) and just get through a shower without him needing to be on me. I'm sure we made it through the reading of the Christmas story but we only made it 5 minutes into a Christmas Eve service before my son scratched his face (badly!) and screamed like he was going to die. Upon noticing where he had hurt himself I ended the scene by crying myself as we ushered ourselves to our car to leave. I felt like the worst parent in the world. 

The second Christmas we had my son he was just over one years old and didn't get it. At. All. He saw boxes wrapped up and a pretty tree but honesty didn't seem fascinated at all. We got the nativity play set and I couldn't even get through a sentence about Jesus without him pushing the button on top the manger that lit up a star and played “away in a manger.” I'm sure we got through a reading of the Christmas story at some point. We barely made it through a walk-through live nativity event but that was it.

This year my son is freshly two. When we first pulled out Christmas decorations the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend (a new tradition) his eyes lit up with excitement. Lots of interest to "open" and "lights!" And "whoa!" With each new decoration I desperately tried to explain the excitement over Jesus' birthday in toddler lingo. I don't know how much was understood but we are at "baby Jee" with the Jesus baby of the nativity play set which I consider a small success! I wasn't sure how much of our excitement over Jesus was rubbing off on our son until just now.

We have a new tradition this year, 24 books. I wrapped 24 Christmas books in brown paper and let my son paint them red and green any way he wanted to. After the wrapping paper dried I stacked them into baskets under the tree. Each night he gets to unwrap one and we read it before bed. All three of us, my husband, son, and I pile into his toddler bed for a new story each night. Some books are silly but several have been about Jesus. Each night he takes every opportunity to get us to read more books than his new one and the 'extras' he keeps grabbing are the ones about "baby Jee." I don't know if he can sense my excitement in reading these or notices how emotional I get that he wants to read them but whatever it is I'll take it!

Our book last night was A Charlie Brown Christmas. At the end of the book the last page is the lyrics for "Hark the Herald Angel Sing." Maybe some reading the book would just say the lyrics but I can't just read song lyrics. I need to sing them. When I finished singing and closed the book he quickly grabbed the book, opened to the last page, and asked me to "sang" again and then waited with expectant eyes. Of course I did. He fell asleep to my singing the lyrics.

Today as nap time approached I asked him which book he'd like to read to lay down for nap, he frantically went searching for A Charlie Brown Christmas. As I read the book he kept trying to flip to the last page where the song was. I noticed his eagerness and abbreviated the story to get there. Once I got to that page and started to sing he looked at me with the biggest smile and sparkle in his eyes, rest his head on my chest, and closed his eyes. I slowly got up to leave the room but quickly behind his closed door I heard the pitter patter of his feet and looked at the monitor video. He had jumped out of bed, grabbed the book and run for the door. I quickly came back in, he handed me the book, grabbed my hand, pulled me toward his bed and innocently asked "sang?"

Of course I did.

I lay down beside him and began to sing...

Hark the Herald Angel Sing, glory to the newborn King.

Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinner reconciled.

Joyful all ye nations rise, join the triumph of the skies,

with angelic host proclaim Christ is born in Bethlehem!

Hark the herald angel sing, glory to the newborn King. 

I sang through it several more times before singing O Holy Night and then leaving him to nap. 

I could hardly contain my tears before closing his door. Just two Christmas’ ago I was holding this sweet baby boy in my arms, trying to understand how I am ever meant to do this thing of mothering with beauty and get him excited about “the baby,” the birth of Jesus and just two years later I can see how the miracle of Jesus is making it’s imprint on my son’s heart through music.

What a gift God has given me to be a mother. Nothing in my life has made me need Jesus, need a Savior, more than being a mother. My efforts are so small but God is so abundant. He has everything to offer my son, even His own Son!  I have nothing to offer my son without Jesus, without a Savior. 

What a gift to welcome the Prince of Peace, Emmanuel, and the Son of God to dwell in our home and more importantly our hearts well beyond Christmas. Nothing in my entire life could have prepared me to be a mother and to get to know God as a parent.