The Fight for Baby Jesus (Or Why It’s A Great Time of Year to Share!)
It happened years ago on a cold day in November, the unexpected fight beneath my roof.
My girls no longer remember the heated words and scratching fingernails, but I never want to forget.
Because that was the day that I began to wonder what would happen if the Christmas season became more about sharing than shopping.
Sleet had been slapping at our windows since sunrise and the Iowa wind chill had held steady at a bitter ten degrees. After an extended autumn of bike riding and swing-set playing, we were finally confined to the four walls of our house.
While the initial sight of snowflakes had created pre-dawn excitement, winter’s luster faded fast. By nine A.M. my preschoolers had wandered listlessly through the house, and I’d begun to wonder if we’d survive the day with goodwill intact.
That’s when I’d come up with the idea.
Disappearing into the depths of the storage closet, I’d dug through towers of Rubbermaid crates until I’d excavated the Fisher Price nativity scene. Triumphantly, I’d lifted my sanity-saver from its box and carried it up the stairs to my stultified daughters.
When five-year-old Lizzy had recognized the shiny brown stable, she’d squealed with delight. Immediately, she’d begun to organize the pudgy plastic cast into a make-it-up-as-you-go-Christmas production.
Peace restored, I’d congratulated myself on salvaging the day and had headed back down the steps to dig out the icicle lights.
When I’d returned with my tangled strand of bulbs, I’d noticed two-year-old Hannah studying the synthetic stable on the coffee table with a curious gaze.
“See our Jesus story?” my eldest daughter had asked as her little sister edged closer.
When the tabletop troupe was within reach, Hannah had grabbed a chunky cow and moo-ed for dramatic effect.
Then she’d tossed the barn’s bovine onto the hard wood floor and reached for something new.
“Donkey!” she’d exclaimed, prancing around the room with a high-pitched hee-haw.
Delighted, Hannah had pawed and appraised every stable dweller until her eyes had landed on the tiny figure propped atop the plastic manger.
“It’s a baby!” she’d murmured as she’d grabbed the miniature version of our infant Savior.
Cupping the two-inch Jesus in her hands, Hannah had begun to rock and sway.
“Rock-a-bye-baby,” she’d sung. “Rock-a-bye-baby.”
Horrified by her sister’s lack of reverence for the Christ child, Lizzy had stooped to face Hannah eye to eye and had set the record straight.
“That’s not just ANY baby,” Lizzy had harrumphed as she shook her head of curls in disgust.
“That’s Baby JESUS!”
“That’s Baby JESUS!”
On cue, Hannah had stopped rocking and kissed the baby in question.
She’d rolled the colorful figure in her palm until her mouth upturned in a slight pink smile.
Suddenly, Hannah’s blue eyes had begun to sparkle with recognition.
“Ohh… yeah….” she’d uttered with a contented sigh, “It’s MY Jesus!”
Before her indignant sister could stop her, Hannah had raced from the room and promptly tucked Jesus into her crib for an overdue nap.
“Shh…” she’d whispered when she’d returned with a finger covering her pursed lips, “Baby Jesus is peeping.”
Realizing that the star of her coffee-table dramas had been snatched, Lizzy had objected.
“You can’t have Jesus! I was playing with Him.”
“You can’t have Jesus! I was playing with Him.”
“No!” Hannah had replied in typical toddler fashion. “My Jesus!”
In a flurry, my toddler had raced back to her room and snatched the Christ child from his mid-day snooze.
Her sister had followed with wails and accusations.
“He’s not YOURS!” Lizzy had responded with unusual fury. “He’s MINE!”
Hannah had squeezed Jesus even tighter and hugged him protectively to her heart.
Lizzy had lunged for the plastic prize, and had scraped her little sister’s arm with a sharp fingernail in the process.
With that, my normally kind-hearted girls had fallen to the floor in a heap of flailing arms and legs while their mommy watched in dismay.
So much for salvaging the day!
Once baby Jesus had been rescued from my toddler’s clinched fists, he was put into a “timeout” on top of the refrigerator until a compromise could be created.
Tears were shed and wiped away. Scrapes and bruises were kissed. And apologies were duly exchanged.
Once we’d created a second baby Jesus by wrapping a tiny doll in a Kleenex swaddle, a truce was reached and red-eyes began to grow clear and bright again.
Later that afternoon as I’d moved the plastic stable from tabletop to mantle, I’d chuckled at the drama that had unfolded over a two-inch baby with synthetic swaddles and a painted red smile.
And I’d thanked God that when it comes to the real Christ child, there need be no dispute. Jesus belongs to all of us.
The words of the old hymn may ring true, Blessed assurance, Jesus is MINE…, but the song of salvation is one that we all can sing. My daughters may have been unable to share their plastic Jesus without leaving someone at a loss, but we can always share the real Jesus without coming up empty-handed.
I wonder why we don’t.
In this season of gifting and gala, why do we serve Christmas dinner, but fail to dish out the Good News? ?
Why do we swap shopping tips and coupon codes, yet fail to pass around the joy He came to give?
Why do we talk more about Black Friday than the Light that pierces our darkness?
Quite simply, why do we forget to share?
The stunning paradox of the first Christmas Gift is this: it’s the only present we can give away while still keeping it for ourselves. (My three-year-old’s play dates would be smoother if we had more gifts like that!)
Because of God’s amazing grace, we can each grab hold of Jesus, hug him to our heart and declare “He’s mine!”
Then, with no concern for losing our treasure to another, we can offer hope this Christmas season as we boldly proclaim to a hurting world, “He’s yours, too!”
The Overflow:
Look! I bring good news to you—
wonderful, joyous news for all people.
Your savior is born today in David’s city.
He is Christ the Lord.
-Luke 2:10-11
How do you plan to SHARE Jesus this Christmas?
If you’re looking for great ways to spread holiday hope, check out my friend, Amy’s blog today. She’s compiled a list of 99 Ways to Serve Your Family and Others this Christmas What a great way to share this sacred season!
Sharing praise with Ann and so many others today–
1613. A walk at dusk with Lizzy through the campground, her thoughts unfolding as the sun sinks.
1614. The kids jumping on the trampoline on Thanksgiving morn while monkey bread rises in the oven.
1615. My four playing Pilgrims and Indians in the trees as I begin my day with a prayer walk around their playground.
1616. All of our Thanksgiving day favorites lined up on Mom’s counter.
1617. Stories told across the Thanksgiving table, the comfort of family and years shared.
1618. Grown-ups vs kids baseball game in Grandma’s back yard. (Grandparent’s willing and able to run bases and chase fly balls!)
1619. A house warm and safe as the wind wails and rattles.
1620. Pink haired mermaid dolls in the bathtub.
1621. Playing cards with the big kids once the littles are tucked in bed.
1622. A houseful of friends celebrating my man’s 40th birthday! Praising God for life and love and those who journey with us.
1623. Cupcakes with frosting piled high.
1624. Joshua as he offers to ride into town with me, “I’m gonna keep you company, Mom. Because I REALLY REALLY love you.”
And happily linking with michelle for hear it monday, use it on sunday, joan for sharing his beauty, laura for playdates with god, jen for soli deo gloria, and kat for titus 2 tuesdays.
Fun and crazy, yes. I guess if the kids are gonna fight, I can be grateful they are fighting over Jesus! Of course, I’d rather they’d just quietly welcome the Prince of Peace into our midst…. maybe in Heaven!
this is funny! I remember my one son stole holy cards from my other son and then lied and said he didn’t do it! .or the time my 15 (no license yet) drove to confession…
your house sounds fun!
Smiling, Alicia. I remember battles like these! Some days I’d give anything to have those kind of battles back:) but you give us a good question, and a good challenge. I want our Christmas to be about sharing…you have me thinking of the best ways to do this and for that I am grateful, friend.
So thankful that He is indeed for all and in this Advent season, let’s hold His Name high…Light of the world.
What a delightful story with a deeper message…had to chuckle at the thought of Jesus in a “timeout”…Thanks, Alicia 🙂
Ahh, yes- I do believe there’s a market for unwanted pet hair- and if ANYONE can find it, you’re the girl 🙂 Love the way you connect us to so many amazing people SHARING Jesus.
Hey, friends- if you haven’t met her yet, this is my friend Amy. Yeah, the one who has compiled a list of 99 ways to share Jesus thru serving this Christmas (find her link at the end of my post today). Seriously, aren’t you a bit curious? I mean, surely we all kind find SOMETHING that intrigues us on a list of 99!
Get on over to her place and be inspired to action 🙂
Thank you, my friend, for the shout out and for the encouragement you give to so many.
Thank you too for telling me the dog story…I’m thinking about starting a new business involving glass Christmas ornaments and dog hair. You kill me.
What an amazing story and story teller you are, Alicia! I always enjoy coming to your blog. And I have to say, I’m not sure I ever expected to read the sentence, “Jesus … was put into a ‘timeout’ on top of the refrigerator.” Ha ha! Love the humor and the message, my friend!