What often comes first, before the joy we seek at Christmastime

By Mark A. Taylor

His life is more challenging than I knew or imagined before I talked with him this week. He has three young children, one of them with special health concerns. His demanding job requires him to interact with more than a couple hundred coworkers who need his help with their problems. And now he’s learned  his widowed mother has inoperable cancer. He will be responsible for getting her to appointments and navigating doctors and tests and radiation treatments.

Not long after her diagnosis, he was asked to take on a significant leadership responsibility at his church. It’s a challenging situation, laced with problems without easy solutions, a ministry receiving criticism and second-guessing by those he’ll be trying to serve.

Why, with all he’s already carrying, would this guy take on that burden?

He anticipated the question before I could ask it.

“Sometimes you need to step into the chaos,” he said. “If you’re called to significant service, you can’t let the difficulty of your surroundings keep you from answering yes. Too often we retreat to comfort.”

I’m not sure “comfort” quite describes his demanding days before he took on this new task. But I get what he means. How often have I chosen the easy path when an obvious need is calling my name?

Of course, sometimes it’s necessary, even godly, just to say no. We serve no one well, and especially not God, by tackling too much and letting some of those duties suffer. I still remember the advice of one psychologist: “Whenever you say yes to one thing, you must say no to another.” The trick is to decide priorities for the most God-honoring use of our limited time and resources.

Unimagined chaos

But as Christmas approaches and we’re thinking about Mary the mother of Jesus, I’m glad she didn’t say no. Certainly her world was upended when she submitted to the angel’s invitation: A difficult-to-explain pregnancy. A shocked and heartbroken husband-to-be. Disappointed parents. A community of gossips. Giving birth in a strange place, far from home, away from the women who had  been her support since childhood.

And that was just the beginning. After decades of life with this Son, she would endure the wrenching heartbreak of watching his torture and execution. Hear the anguished testimonies of mothers today whose sons have died unjustly, and grasp some inkling of what Mary would suffer. Chaos would be a good way to describe it. 

Incomparable glory

But, of course, she also experienced incomparable glory. She began to see how the angel’s promise was true when Elizabeth affirmed and then the awestruck shepherds confirmed that God had done something “impossible” through her. Her unequaled wonder grew when she met the aged saints in the temple who proclaimed that her infant would be the salvation of Israel—and the world. Later she witnessed his miracles. And after tending to his corpse in a donated tomb, she saw that his battered body, now restored, had cast off its shroud! He was alive! No other grief-stricken mother has known such exhilarating joy. 

Rekindled joy

We encounter that word, joy, often at Christmastime. It’s the headline on Christmas cards and at the center of outdoor decorations. “Joy to the world” we sing, and I think it’s more of an aspiration than a testimony. Oh, how we long for joy, at least a rekindled flicker of it, as we flock to Christmas concerts and worship services. 

But this year I’ll also remember my friend and his choices as I celebrate, because he’s not the only one facing life less than perfect this season. Like so many on our Christmas-card list, my wife and I have confronted our own challenges this year. In spite of them, maybe because of them, I’m looking forward to a host of pleasant holiday pleasures in the coming weeks: gatherings with people we love, December treats, Christmas music, a party or two. 

Hopefully those experiences will create warm memories and generous doses of happiness. But to know the joy that comes from God to those who answer however he calls, I must be willing in the new year to face something we don’t sing about at Christmas. 

Chaos. 

I won’t seek it, but if it comes (and it probably will, at least in some form), I’ll pray for wisdom not to let chaos distract me from what God has for me to do. I want to believe that eventually, with obedience something like Mary demonstrated, I’ll know joy something like Mary experienced. 

And I’ll pray my friend will know it, too.

Photos by LinkedIn Sales Solutions and by DDP on Unsplash

To receive daily posts delivered directly to your inbox, complete the form at the bottom of our home page.
To download a printable version of today’s post, click here.