A Simple Christmas Prayer

It is 1:30 am, and I am wide awake.

My thoughts are on you. How will you celebrate the birth of the King this year?

Will the walls of your home ring with laughter and loud chatter as the family gathers around? Will your home lay quiet, holding only memories because those close to you will be away this year? Will you gather in a hospital waiting room due to an unforeseen illness in the family? Will you kneel silently praying for a loved one serving overseas? Will you visit assisted living to look in the worn eyes of the shell of someone you once knew? Will your celebration be interrupted briefly by the tears shed for a loved one who is celebrating Christmas sitting at the feet of this Savor?

I think of you and pray. The holidays serve a heaping dose of celebration and hope, sprinkled with a bit of grief. We grieve for traditions long gone and transitions that have stepped up in their place. So, I pray. 

I pray as one who understands letting go of expectations and plans to live fully in the mess of the moment. I pray as one who has had to surrender the Hallmark “happily ever after Christmas” to embrace the messy, unscripted, painful one in front of me, only to discover that God had a grander gift of grace to give me that surpasses the thrill of any wrapped package under my tree. 

This festive time of year has always been my favorite. I can’t help myself! The sights and sounds usher in feelings of hope and peace, and for a short time, all seems well. 

That is until a few years ago.  I was so busy with all the “doing” of Christmas, wanting everything to be perfect for those I love. While I stood in the kitchen, prepping food for our family celebration,  I noticed a shift in my heart. I had lost my joy. The scurry of activities that once brought delight to my heart had been reduced to another check on my list so I could rush to the next task and check another “to-do” to reflect “done.”

“God, what is wrong with me?” became my whispered prayer. “I want to enjoy my family when they get here. Now, even our celebration has become another check on the list.”

I sat in silent prayer, waiting for that still, small voice. God whispered His words of grace to me that day, which are the words I pray tonight for you and me. 

God: “Why do you strive? What is it you want? What are your expectations?” 

Me: “God, I want my family to feel wrapped up in love when they arrive. I want them to feel like they can take a break from their busy lives and momentarily breathe in peace. I want to soak in the moments with them.”

God: “Then let go. Let go of expectations and embrace the plans I have. The calm, peace, and love you seek come not from your striving but from seeking. Seek me. Please invite me to be your guest. Ask me to come and do what only I can do. Matters of the heart are my specialty, for I alone can change a life. Invite my spirit to come and move into your home. Then trust me.”

Me: “Ok, God, I surrender. I let go of wanting everything to be perfect. I yield to whatever You want to do with our time together. I release my temporary expectations that I may embrace your eternal plan. Be our guest. Move among us. Breathe life into our dry, weary bones. Mend the broken places. Heal the sin-diseased parts of us. Let your will rise above our selfish desires. For you are a faithful father.”

And that, my friends, that simple prayer of surrender and invitation changed everything, not just for me but for our family. 

That is why tonight I pray for you, and I pray for me a simple Christmas prayer.