The birth of Jesus

The gospel of Luke begins…

Many people have already applied themselves to the task of compiling an account of the events that have been fulfilled among us. 2 They used what the original eyewitnesses and servants of the word handed down to us. 3 Now, after having investigated everything carefully from the beginning, I have also decided to write a carefully ordered account for you, most honorable Theophilus. 4 I want you to have confidence in the soundness of the instruction you have received…(Luke 1:1-4) CEB

And then we hear about the birth of Jesus…

In those days Caesar Augustus declared that everyone throughout the empire should be enrolled in the tax lists. 2 This first enrollment occurred when Quirinius governed Syria. 3 Everyone went to their own cities to be enrolled. 4 Since Joseph belonged to David’s house and family line, he went up from the city of Nazareth in Galilee to David’s city, called Bethlehem, in Judea.5 He went to be enrolled together with Mary, who was promised to him in marriage and who was pregnant. 6 While they were there, the time came for Mary to have her baby. 7 She gave birth to her firstborn child, a son, wrapped him snugly, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the guest room.  Luke 2:1-7 (CEB)

Love is a Full-Time Job

I have deliberately waited to say much about Joseph until the Eve of Jesus’ birth. Remember that this is a guy who was feeling very conflicted. His fiance was pregnant and he had this one very key fact: he hadn’t had sexual relations with her.

Confused about what a decent human response would be in a situation like this, Joseph was given the gift of insight. An angel appeared to him in a dream and said, “She will bear a son, conceived of the Holy Spirit, and you, Joseph, will name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:21)

Ahhhh, realized Joseph. God was up to something; this was part of a story bigger than himself, his reputation or even Mary’s sexual history.

When Joseph woke up, he knew what he was supposed to do. He was given the command: believe.

He married her and the rest, as they say, is history.

Here’s a good word for all of us: our work is not fancy, but it is hard to remember - believe. And as we believe we wrestle with the application of said belief. It limits us to loving, respecting and cherishing our fellow man. It frees us from the limitations of fear, anger, resentment, greed, gluttony and the like. Because loving is a full-time gig.

May you Christmas Eve be filled with light.

Suggestions for beating back the holiday blues…

1. Go do something nice for someone else, expecting nothing in return.

2. Avoid excessive exposure to triggers when possible, but don’t lie about the fact that you are avoiding stuff. Tell yourself the truth. I had a funeral I would have liked to attend as a matter of love and respect for the family but it was immediately after my mom’s passing and I didn’t think I could sit quietly and show up. I told the truth about this; it didn’t make me happy to admit it; I will continue to use it for motivation to participate in the grieving process so that I can heal over time but it was necessary on that day to make that choice.

3. Take care of yourself but avoid indulging in isolation. Ask for help as part of self-care.

I hope this helps those of us who are struggling this holiday season. Tomorrow, we return to the unfolding of the birth of Jesus.

Some skills that limit self-pity

Yesterday I mentioned a story that was told by a mother son team from two different viewpoints. The son was in recovery and filled with optimism and gratitude; mom was still struggling with the effects of ten years of trauma associated with her son’s active addiction. Both are perfectly acceptable and normal responses, one does not diminish the other. I noticed that the son and mom had been given two different levels of support along the journey. The son had intensive treatment, long term. He had daily meetings. He had a therapist. He had a group of recovery buddies.

Mom had spent her retirement funds to make this happen. She was working one full-time and two part-time side jobs to stay afloat. I admire her commitment to finding resources for her boy. And she was so happy to do so. But her schedule only permitted her to attend one Al-anon meeting a week. She didn’t feel that she had the finances to go to therapy. Is it any wonder that her own path to recovery was (perhaps) taking a bit longer? She’s getting there, her pace is just a bit different from her son’s. (And to be clear - she is doing an amazing job of supporting his recovery. She’s doing great work in spite of a paucity of resources.)

One skill she talked about that I think has been extremely helpful to her is the resource of online recovery resources and phone contact with supportive friends. She needed and found a way to have someone to talk consistently to, for a limited amount of time. She says she intentionally sets a time limit on these kind of calls; she cut herself off from the ruminating after a few minutes of venting. She even went so far as to schedule her time for expressing self-pity. Storing and stuffing is not helpful but neither is repetitive rumination. She learned how to maintain a balance.

I suspect this skill set is serving her well. Can you perhaps find a way to incorporate that kind of limitation on self-pity?

Finding gratitude from the stories of those who came before us

Last week I heard an amazing story from a young man in recovery from an opiate addiction.

Among other things he said: “I wouldn’t trade the experience my addiction brought me for anything.”

His mother shot back in reply, “I would!”

People learn different lessons from suffering; they learn similar lessons too, but at a different pace. These pacing problems can exacerbate our feelings of isolation. Again, it is helpful to know this even if we cannot change it. Understand that we can be at different places in our recovery and still find ways to accept, encourage and support each other along the way. My self-pity parties want to tell me about what I have lost or never found; but there are other truths to be unearthed in the rubble as well. My guy friend in recovery has stumbled upon gratitude and it is a beautiful gift. His mother is traveling that road; she is still traumatized by the experience of having a son overdose in her arms four times as he was walking his addiction path. She is taking a little longer to catch up to his serenity.

In the meeting where they co-shared, both served as a comfort to individuals in the group. I suspect they were not comforting the same people. And that is totally awesome, isn’t it? Between the two of them they covered a wide swath of human need and met the freaked out family members AND the beloved addicts in the room with a message of love and support.

I don’t think it’s a bad idea to at least give it the good old college try and intentionally go looking for gratitude. See if you can find it. If you cannot, that’s okay. Maybe along the way you will find messengers who understand that as hard as you look, right now what you are experiencing is a lot of fear. That’s normal. It’s okay. Find support.