All I want for Christmas is to love well

Growing up, Christmas was magical for me on an almost fairytale level. As someone whose love language is giving and receiving gifts, having that bent really ratchets the holidays up a notch. But now that I’m all grown up, I know the secret of my wonderful childhood holidays, and her moniker begins and ends with the same letter, with a big O in the middle:  that’s right, Mom. 

Because my parents have always been so supportive of one another, my Dad worked hard to finance the gifts that Mom thoughtfully picked out for everyone, and he seemed to enjoy watching her work her Christmas wonders – still does! (And occasionally Dad contributed his own unique gifts to the mix, which were also delightful – imagine four kids, each sporting gigantic stuffed bull slippers, including the nose ring! Or stuffed pigs and cows that walked and mooed and oinked!)

On Christmas morning, we would wake up in our brand-new Christmas Eve jammies. Christmas music would be playing quietly in the background, and Mom would be sitting serenely in the living room taking pictures of the piles of presents under the tree, while Dad was off on some secret mission of Mom’s (usually pertaining to the as-yet-unknown-to-us location of our stockings).

We took turns opening our gifts one at a time. Dad would open one, then Mom, then each of us four kids in order of age. This allowed us to really savor each gift, to see what everyone else received in turn and celebrate with them. 

Finding and opening the gifts in our stockings was next on the agenda. The stockings were always filled to the brim with perfectly wrapped goodies, with a stuffed animal hanging out the top. (Usually there was a theme to the stuffed animals, so each of us kids would get one of a set. One year it was our favorite characters from the then-popular Looney Tunes spin-off Tiny Toons.)

Then we would enjoy a big Christmas breakfast, followed by an afternoon of playing with our toys, or if it snowed, sledding in our backyard. And even as teens, when we only asked for money so we could go shopping at the mall and blow it all on an outfit from American Eagle or Express or Aeropostale, my mom still managed to find additional treasures to fit each of our styles to wrap and place under the tree. 

I always appreciated the care that she took to bless us so abundantly – to give us money to go shopping but then on top of that, to fill our stockings and also find gifts for us to unwrap under the tree. As an adult, and in particular as a mother myself, I find that I am following in her footsteps. My antennas are always up and alert, ready to sense whenever there’s a gift that may surprise and delight my daughter at Christmastime. 

It was never about the money for us. Most of the extras were inexpensive, but they were chosen with such care as to the receiver (favorite color, favorite music, whatever we were really into at that time – New Kids on the Block, anyone?). They made us feel like we were known and loved. Someone searched for those gifts, shopped specifically for us, wrapped our presents, and placed them lovingly under the tree. 

For us, that someone was Mom. She cared enough to take time out of chauffeuring us to all of our practices and games and sleepovers and church activities and making dinner and doing laundry and baking for all of our holiday parties to delight in finding gifts that showed us her and Dad’s love. 

(Sidenote:  The year Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet took theaters by storm in Titanic, we, along with the rest of the nation, were nearly crazed with finding the soundtrack CD – which simply could not be found. Dad jumped into the fray and went searching for it. He found a CD entitled Titanic at Walmart and gave it to us for Christmas, and even though it was definitely not the soundtrack to the hit movie, we loved that he had spent his time searching for the gift we so desperately wanted. Spoiler alert:  we did eventually find said CD, then proceeded to play it until even the dog could croon along with Celine about her heart going on and on.)

Of course, when I look back, I am sure I am wearing my trusty rose-colored glasses, waxing nostalgic about Christmases past. Sure, it was not perfect. But boy, was it nice to be so loved and cared for! And now, to be in that role of loving and caring for others is such a dream come true and a privilege. But sometimes, if I’m honest, I miss being a kid and having someone else take care of everything for me. 

That’s why I find comfort in the story of Elizabeth, mother to John the Baptist in the Bible. We read about Mary visiting Elizabeth after she receives the visit from Gabriel, telling her that she will birth the Messiah in Luke 1:39-45:

At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. 

In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!”

Don’t you just love Elizabeth? I imagine her life was hard, being a barren woman in a society where a woman’s value was tied to her ability to have children. Yet she remained faithful. We are told that both she and her husband, Zechariah, were righteous in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commands and decrees blamelessly (Luke 1:6).

And when God moves in her life by giving her a baby in her old age, instead of focusing only on herself and her dreams of motherhood coming true, we see Elizabeth taking Mary in and encouraging her. Certainly Elizabeth would have enjoyed telling Mary about herself and her own miracle, and they likely did talk about that at some point. 

But what we see here is Elizabeth rejoicing that her much-younger relative is to be the mother of the Messiah. We don’t see Elizabeth being envious or wondering why Mary gets to become a mother at a young age, while Elizabeth had to wait a long time for her miracle. We don’t see her comparing the two babies to come, wishing John could be the more important of the two. 

We simply see her rejoicing with Mary, humbly accepting the role God has given her to play in this great story. And years later, when John the Baptist’s followers tell him that Jesus is garnering more and more attention, what is John’s response? We read in John 3:27-30:

To this John replied, “A person can receive only what is given them from heaven. You yourselves can testify that I said, ‘I am not the Messiah but am sent ahead of him.’ The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom’s voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete. He must become greater; I must become less.” 

I may be reading into this too much, but after seeing Elizabeth’s humble acceptance of her part in the Gospel, I wonder if John learned that from his mother. He knew his life was not all about him. He would be well known for a short while, but ultimately his job was to lead others to Jesus. He knew all along that his life would be composed of seasons, and that humility is the thread woven throughout the lives of all those who surrender to a purpose greater than their own. 

As I ponder Christmases past and prepare for the Christmas to come in a few weeks, I see the impact of a life lived in service to others. Elizabeth served Mary in her time of need. She rejoiced with Mary over her good news. John the Baptist served Christ. He ushered in that particular season of Christ’s ministry. 

But we don’t have to be visited by an angel in order to leave a legacy of humble service; we just need to be willing to play our part in the story laid out before us. In a world that is always screaming about self-importance, we just need a willingness to be a part of something greater than ourselves. 

Loving others well matters – investing in them with gifts of time, our presence, and even sometimes presents too. If you’re in that place where you’re pouring yourself out for your spouse, children, grandchildren, students, family members, coworkers, church members or friends, let me encourage you that your part matters.

Mark 10:45 tells us that even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers (Galatians 6:9-10).