And To All A Good Night

Becoming a mother has forever changed my idea of what Christmas Eve was like. Nativity scenes are so serene. Mary looks well-rested, warm, fed, and in top condition. Joseph hardly looks like a man who has just walked 85 miles leading a donkey and performing midwifery duties for a teenage girl.

But Mary delivered a baby without an epidural in a lean-to next to farm animals. She was far from home, far from comfort and she was tired already from a long journey on a donkey.

When older people smile idyllically and wax nostalgic about when their children were little, I try to remember that what they are really saying is not that it was easy, but that it was worth it. What you remember years down the road is that what you were doing was RIGHT. And if that means to some people, that they have the misconception that it was easy, then it is their loss.

I have watched people walk away from their vows in droves in the past few years. It just got too hard. And yet commitments are RIGHT. They are topsy-turvy, bone-achingly exhausting, and require putting down self to see something through. But they are worth it. I'm sad for those I know this year who won't be able to look back in reflection someday at what they accomplished because they stayed.

Mary and Joseph did some hard work on a Bethlehem night so we could sit in comfy churches (with heaters and warm clothes) and sing nice songs and reflect on the loveliness of Christmas. And that is as it should be. But if you have ever done natural childbirth, you know it wasn't easy. And you know all that followed was harder than Mary could have known when an angel showed up to talk to her. But she hung in there. And Joseph stayed next to her despite what people thought and despite the personal cost to him. And I'm so grateful.

O Holy Night! O Night Divine!