Shepherds and Kings

I, like so many other Catholics, enter the Advent season with good intentions. I also tend to fall short of what I plan to do in the preparation for the Coming of Our Lord. At the beginning of the month, I had a list of everything I wanted to accomplish. I was going to pray more everyday with the Rosary and Advent devotionals and I was going to reflect more deeply on how the King of the universe was present in my life. On top of that, I was going to cross off everything and everyone on my Christmas lists early. Now here I am, a week before Christmas, and I am not where I had hoped I would be.

But it is dawning on me that even with all the meticulous preparation, something unexpected will always happen. With all of our planning, the only plan we can really count on is God's plan. His is perfect. Ours is not.

I read this in one of my devotions last week:

"He is exploding into our lives with the same power that kings feared."

Looking back, that statement had a lot of effect on me. He is coming whether we are ready or not. What are we doing to prepare our HEARTS rather than our homes? Why are we so frantic when we don't get the Christmas cards out on time or when the silverware doesn't go with the table runner?

This statement about kings fearing a little baby reminds me so much of the importance of humility. These men with power and riches feared Jesus, but the shepherds and a couple from a small town dropped what they were doing and recognized him with awe and wonder.

I look at the middle schoolers I work with, and they remind me so much of the shepherds who worshiped Jesus that night in Bethlehem. They're humble. They're not afraid to ask the big questions sot hey can get closer to God. They're not intimidated. They're curious, and they have incredible trust in God. They recognize God for who He is. Somewhere in between that time in our lives and becoming adults, we lose that trust. We make kings of ourselves (or we allow the world to make kings of us). We prepare for the wrong things. God becomes threatening to us. At that moment, we lose the humility we had as children, and we replace it with pride. We trick ourselves into thinking that we honor God by baking the best cookie or having a beautiful creche or giving friends and family the best gifts - 'cause hey, we're being generous with our time and talent! But I wonder, isn't there more to it than that?

Jesus doesn't ask for cookies or Christmas cards. He doesn't need pretty decorations or wreaths to know that we belong to him. He wants us. He wants our hearts. He wants us to know his love which is far more valuable than any gadget or gizmo we can purchase off of Amazon. So maybe my goal for the rest of the week shouldn't be about journaling the right way. Maybe the rest of the week should be about having the same humility that Joseph and Mary had as they peered into that manger at God made flesh.