The Gift of Hope

It is two days before Christmas. 

A stack of presents sits on the bed waiting to be wrapped. 

There is laundry to be done, food to prepare, and a half-dozen items still left unchecked on my to-do list. Yet, I find myself returning to the gifts. 

I have always loved opening gifts on Christmas morning. When I was a girl, I used to wake up in the early morning hours and sneak into the living room to peak at the gifts before everyone else woke up. Santa never wrapped the gifts he brought, so I would make a quick scan of the room, searching for that special something I had hoped for and making note of anything I thought my brothers might be excited about. Once I had taken assessment of the loot, I would sneak back to my bed and watch the minutes tick by, until it was finally time to get up. 

But it was more than the actual gifts I received; there was something magical about those pre-dawn expeditions to the Christmas tree. The twinkling lights cast a mystical glow over the room, and the packages all looked so beautiful piled one on top of another, each adorned with brightly colored ribbons or bows. I knew I would love the gifts inside, but there was something about the anticipation in those solitary moments that filled those boxes with something else…

Hope.

Soon enough I would find out if all my hinting, asking, and praying had paid off. But in that moment, the real gift was the hope of things to come. The hope of dreams fulfilled. 

Sometimes all we need is a little hope.

I look at these gifts lying on my bed and think about the hope contained in each one. I reach for a football for my little man, and with it I wrap the hope of neighborhood pick-up games and father-son bonding time. Next, there’s an Indoor S’more maker and some board games, each wrapped with layers of family time and the hope of many beautiful, lifelong memories. The socks and shirt for my hubby are enveloped in the hope of good health, resulting in many years of wearing. And the gift cards for our girls seem straight forward enough, but are also packaged with the hope of quality time and great conversations. 

Simple gifts, really, but each wrapped in the hope of so much more.

I think about that Christmas long ago, when Mary watched strangers bring gifts to her baby boy, pondering the mysteries they contained and treasuring those moments in her heart. How her heart must have soared when she opened the chest full of gold; a gift for royalty, stoking her hope in the angel’s promise, that her baby was going to be something more, a King like no other. The frankincense filled her with hope as well- a gift in recognition of the divine role Jesus would play in Israel’s restoration. Her baby really was the Messiah! Oh blessed hope!

But what of the gift of myrrh? Did Mary understand the hope contained in that meaningful gift? I imagine not. Myrrh was used for many things, the most common being an embalming oil. It seems a strange gift for a baby; but it was the perfect gift for a Savior! It was a foreshadowing of His journey to come, and confirmation to us all these years later that none of it was by accident. 

That baby was born so He could die for us. 

He was a simple gift, really, but wrapped in the hope of so much more. He was the hope of things to come, the hope of dreams fulfilled. 

Sometimes all we need is a little hope.

Advent: Obedience in the Unexpected

“‘I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May it be to me as you have said.’” (Luke 1:38)

This was Mary’s response when an angel suddenly appeared and informed her that she had been chosen by God to carry the long awaited Messiah, the Savior of the world. “I am the Lord’s servant, may it be to me as you have said.”

Is that how we respond to God when unexpected things come our way? 

Because, while we all consider Mary a hero on this side of the story, that title is generally earned by doing really hard things. Being the birth mother of the Messiah could not have been an easy task!

Let’s be real. If the angel were being a little more straightforward, he might have said something like this: 

“Mary, because you’ve been so faithful, God has chosen you for a most difficult assignment. Should you choose to accept this mission, you will endure public ridicule and shame. Your beloved Joseph will most likely believe you betrayed him. Since he’s a nice guy, he might quietly divorce you, but there’s always the risk he will have you stoned to death in the public square instead. On the off chance he sticks around, you know people will be whispering about you wherever you go. You will have to leave your family, your home…

Oh yeah, and this baby? Raising the Son of God will not be as easy as you think. The story will play out a little differently than expected. Eventually people will honor your place in God’s story, but first you must endure the loss of that which you love most. You must place this child on the altar before his heart even flutters within you, and you must promise not to hinder that which will surely shatter your mama-heart. This is a gift of great joy for all the people, but it will cost you tremendous grief.  So… are you in?”

Hmm…

“I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said.”

Now granted, Mary did not know all the trials that lay ahead, but she had to at least know the immediate repercussions of this unexpected announcement.

And still, she chose obedience, without hesitation.

In this season of advent, I am asking myself this question: When God brings me hard assignments, do I respond with such an accepting, obedient heart? With such trusting faith?

Do you?

Cancer.

Miscarriage.

Job loss.

Financial hardship.

Infertility.

Illness.

Pain.

Broken Relationships.

Sudden Loss.

These are hard things. Unexpected things. Seemingly impossible things

But nothing is impossible with God. 

The gospel accounts do not tell us why Mary was chosen to be the mother of Jesus. But the fact that her immediate response was “I am the Lord’s servant” is a good indication of why she found favor with God. My guess is that Mary had proven herself faithful in the little things, day in and day out. She did not search for her identity in her beauty or her father’s name or her future marriage. She did not need the approval of others to define her worth. How do we know? 

Because she was willing to give all those things up without even a moment’s hesitation. 

What was it that enabled Mary to look past her personal sacrifice and welcome the will of the Father? She was the Lord’s servant, and nothing else mattered more than that. She knew the God of her fathers, the God of Abraham and Isaac, the Great I AM, could not be wrong. Her life was in His hands; she could open her heart to Jesus. What had she to fear?

Perhaps we can draw some encouragement from Mary this Christmas.

What hard things are you facing right now? What in your life is not going as you expected? Our heavenly Father can be trusted! Like Mary, we can open our hearts to Jesus, and allow our Savior to usher in the joy and peace that can only be found in Him. We can choose to look past our circumstances, even in the midst of pain and loss, and welcome the will of our Father.

May we say with Mary this Christmas, “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said.”