For the most part, I love Christmas. I love the celebrating, the singing, the glowing lights, live nativities and, yes, I love presents. However, there is one part that I dread every year - going to my grandparents.
At this house, I do not fit in anywhere. One Aunt is Queen of the Kitchen, with no space for kitchen maids, so I can't help there. The gift giving is a sort of mad free-for-all scene where you rarely know if anyone likes what they got, and with the exception of one very sweet cousin who is now married and moved away, nobody ever talks to me. Instead, my cousins tell colorful stories among themselves while I sit in a corner, wishing desperately that I was home reading a book or humming to myself so I don't hear the dirty language they are using. I am not exaggerating when I say that most of my family wouldn't go except for the fact that grandma will put you in the dog house if you don't show up.
On the trip down this year I kept thinking it over, the desire NOT to go, and the reasons why I know I should. I would much rather stay home. Seriously. I get so bored - nope, wrong attitude.! Grandma at least will be glad to see me. No one else will though, they say hello then pretend I'm not there. But I need to go. I need to be a light. I could... try talking to them, and not just sit there. Take the bushel off the light, so to speak.
Then I started praying. Lord, give me an opportunity to be a light to - NO! Wait! What if i say something stupid? What if I give them something more to mock Christians about? Never mind Lord, I'll just be a content little mouse in the corner. Okay? Um... no? No. You are right. Might as well glue some feathers on me and listen for the clucking, I'm that much of a chicken. Alright, Lord! (Here I felt very brave indeed) I mean it this time! Give me an opportunity!
I walked into that house half expecting shocking and uncomfortable situations that I would bear nobly, such as being approached by a disreputable guy cousin about why I act so differently, or bravely standing up and defying peer pressure, possibly even witnessing to someone.
What did happen was not very heroic. I spent the evening talking and laughing with two girl cousins I have barely spoken to since we used to play dolls together. Pretty tame, but definitely a step in the right direction for me.
It didn't turn out to be a lesson on how to do brave and heroic things for the Lord. It was a lesson in simply being willingly obedient. I didn't need to impress God with great moral strength. He simply wanted me to follow His lead, no matter what He brings my way.
1 comments:
My dad's family is similar. God has lead me through learning how to show them love. It's still hard but there are moments that have such hope.
Post a Comment