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(This is an article published in Home Life on 2/92 and in The Gem in 1985.  Both under my married name, J. P. Rowe)

TINSEL IN MY TOES

     Christmas is always frenzied!  No matter how much you plan, with small children at home the interruptions quite often outweigh the organization.

     As a mom of toddlers, I find myself cutting corners and buying time in ways which are unacceptable any other time of the year.  After all, trees must be trimmed, presents must be wrapped, parties must be attended, and goodies must be baked.

     So I find that sticking sticky candy canes into crying faces is quicker than the rocking chair, MacDonalds for dinner will save cooking and clean-up, and shoveling debris into closets before company arrives will have to do.

     With all the holiday activity, even the important things get crowded.  I’d like to share how the God of the Universe can squeeze Himself into even the most harried and hurried time-frame.

     Last Christmas season, as I sat reading my daily scriptures, literally every other word was punctuated by shouts of “Mommy!”, “Me first!”, or “It’s MINE!”

     After a dozen or so tries, my frazzled nerves won out.  “Okay, God!” I shouted, throwing my Bible down.  “If you want to hear from me today, then YOU make the time!  You know I’ve done my part trying!  You gave me two kids who don’t nap, may I remind you!”  And flushed and angry I went off to tackle another overcrowded day.  If you knew my active kids, you’d realize the challenge I’d presented to him.

     I stormed into the living room to untangle the girls from each other’s necks.  They’d been at it again–the tree was a sight!  True to my perfectionist nature, every inch was magnificent–that is, from four feet up.

     Jenny, four, and Elizabeth, two, had hung the lower decorations on themselves and icicles and tinsel lay like snow covering my carpet.  This left the bottom of the tree as bare as when it grew in the forest.

     “Who’s gonna help Mommy clean up this mess!?” I demanded.  In a flash both girls scurried out of sight.

     On and on I nagged and griped to God.  The holiday season had depleted my energy, and fatigue is a familiar enemy of my serenity.  God has often used this fatigue to strip away my mask of righteousness and let me see what’s underneath.  Once this mask is gone I can usually find childish anger at God.  Then, and only then, can I deal honestly with my sin.

     Assuming a position familier to mommies, I got down on all fours to pick up the sparkling clutter.  All the while, I continued complaining to my Creator.  “And by the way, other kids pick up their toys and junk; how come mine always disappear when…”  Something was tugging at my bare toe.

     Lifting back slightly, I discovered an icicle I’d been sitting on had entwined itself around my toe.  Then it struck me, here I was, alone, in a very unplanned kneeling position and best of all, with kids who were too guilty to make a peek till the mess was no more.  It was as if God were speaking:  “Yes, you were saying?”  God had met my challenge with majesty, surpassing my “making the time” demand by also setting the mood.

    Only this time, God’s own time, I was in a more suitable position and a much more humble frame of mind.  Instead of having a “quiet time” during my pre-arranged schedule that was adaptable to my efficiently organized day, I was having it spontaneously and with my guard down.  I was sure the angels were watching my girls, keeping them occupied.

     I came away refreshed, and somehow that to-do list no longer looked quiet so impossible.  My spirit for Christmas was no longer one of stress but one of rejoicing:  “A King is born!”

I searched the internet to see if The Gem still existed and found other magazines by that name, but not the Christian one.  

*Image courtesy of jannoon028 at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

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