We carried the Christmas decorations up from the basement before I left for church. The serious work of Christmasizing our home would have to wait until I returned. In the meantime, five-year-old Lauren was content to play with the miniature plastic nativity set we keep in an old tin.
When I arrived home I was greeted by the inviting aroma of dinner. Stealing a peek at the table I saw that Laurent had placed pieces of the nativity set at each person's plate. Apparently shepherds, wise men, cows, and sheep would be joining us for dinner. A smile crept across my face. Just then Lauren raced into the kitchen.
"Oh, Daddy, Daddy!" she cried. "Jesus is missing! We've looked everywhere and can't find Him!"
She was right, I couldn't see baby Jesus at an of the five place settings. "Oh, we'll find Him," I confidently assured her. "Let's look after we eat."
And look we did. Low and high. High and low. Under the couch. In the plants. In Lauren's Barbie playhouse. We scoured her coloring desk cluttered with stickers, markers, crayons, glue, construction paper, scissors, and a half-full can of pop. It was all there, everything except for Jesus!
As my compulsive find-whatever-is-lost-at-any-cost neurosis kicked into high gear, I noticed Lauren's backpack by her desk. Much like her older sisters, Lauren carries her backpack everywhere she goes. In it she transports her treasures. Hairbows. Hats. Barbies. A stuffed kitty. Polly Pockets. Her Hello Kitty plastic wallet. More stickers, markers, and tablets. (Her backpack must weigh more than my bowling bag.) I decided to look in the backpack. At the bottom of the treasure trove was Jesus.
"Here He is!" I proudly announced. "Jesus was in your pack ready to go with you to preschool tomorrow."
The good news of Christmas is that we are not alone. The One who made us has come to us and REMAINS with us.
I have come to realize that Jesus wasn't missing at all. That night He was in the middle of the action. His place in Lauren's backpack was strangely appropriate. In the midst of all the symbols of my daughter's interests and activities was the Lord of life. That really extends beyond five-year-old girls. As we face a new year filled with commitments and kids, each of us can be confident that Jesus is right there in the middle of it all.
That, after all is the real message of the season. God's uncontainable love for His creation, spilled over into a manager, a carpenter's shop, a fishing boat, a tax collector's home, a Roman execution scene, a rich man's grave, and into an upper room.
As much as it bothers us not to have that baby Jesus in His proper place on the piano (or at the dinner table), He belongs in our backpacks, purses, gym bags, suitcases, mobiles, and checkbooks. The good news of Christmas is that we are not alone. The One who made us has come to us and remains with us.
I have friends that hid baby Jesus every year and display their nativity scene without Him. On Christmas Day their youngest child opens a tiny box under the tree labeled "From God with Love." Inside the brightly wrapped package is the missing Jesus. For the rest of Christmas week the nativity scene in their home is complete.
It's a creative idea, but I wonder if it sends the right signals. Maybe, as we pack away our Christmas decorations, we should go ahead and box up Mary and Joseph, with the shepherds and wise men, but leave Jesus on display. What a great reminder that the message of the manger isn't relegated to the basement except for four weeks in December. The fact that the Immanuel (God with us) resides with us every day is good news worth celebrating all year long.
"The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-king glory, like Father, like Son" (The Message).
