This Little Light of Mine
Candlelight service. I think it is my favorite event of the Christmas season. I was not raised celebrating Christmas as the birth of the Savior of the world. When I was a kid, it was all about the gifts, all about getting. The Sears catalog was the main book, not the Bible. Long lists of wants dominated my thoughts, not a long list of blessings given throughout the year. “The Night Before Christmas” and “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” were the main stories read, not the true story from the Book of Luke. Tragically, I was the leading player in my childhood Christmases, not the star of Bethlehem. I remember being disappointed in Christmas growing up, even when I got everything I wanted. It felt empty, anti-climatic, and shallow. Something was missing.
Christmas Through the Eyes of a Child
I remember the first year we went to a candlelight service, the first time we considered the birth of God’s Son, and the first time we celebrated the best Gift of all. Our first child, a son, was only two months old and was sleeping as I cuddled him in the crowded sanctuary. The choir sang all of the traditional songs, “Angles We Have Heard on High,” “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem,” and “Silent Night.” It was inspiring. Then began the procession of the animals as they reset the manger scene. First came the animals – yes, right down the center aisle – donkeys and sheep, along with their shepherds. Mary rode a donkey with Joseph at her side. There was an inn and a rush to the stable, no real dialogue, just soft music and acting the familiar roles within the story. But for me, until that evening, it had been a story I had taken for granted, a story that was flat. I knew it was true but it had not seemed real or life-impacting.
The Motherhood Perspective
Then the cry of a newborn baby rang out (no script there), and the main character arrived. The pastor stepped forward and lifted the child from Mary’s arms. “Behold the Lamb of God!” he announced. Tears wet my face as for the first time I got it – It was Him, He was here, and He made all of the difference.
Holding my own son, I felt a rush of emotion as I played the story through in Mary’s place – the ridicule, the tender moments, each birthday, His relationship with John (one of His cousins), His baptism, the miracle of turning the water into wine at Cana, how He left and traveled around healing others and upsetting the elders, the misunderstandings, and the miracles. I thought about how she might have heard of His trial, torture, and crucifixion. How did she watch it? Through her fingers that covered her face, she sobbed, confused, in anger, and in pain.
I was a mother now, with a young, innocent baby in my arms. I didn’t know what the future held, what he would face, what I would have to watch him endure, or what trials God would ordain for him. All I knew was that I loved him. I wept. I got it. Mary was innocent, naïve, willing, obedient, honest, and loving. And she had challenges in front of her that only the God of the universe could carry her through.
These scenes rushed through my mind, and then I returned to hear the pastor’s voice continuing his message: “And the Light came into the darkness. Immanuel – God with us.“ John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world” (so loved you and me) “that He gave” (freely and willingly) “His one and only Son” (His best) “that whoever” (come one, come all) “believes in Him” (accepts His Gift and receives Him) “might have eternal life” (life with Him here and now and then forever with Him in heaven).
The Light of the World
The lights lowered, and the pastor left a single candle, “Jesus is the light of the world. We are to let our lives shine so that others might come to know God and the gift of His Son for their salvation. “From this one light,” he said, holding up his candle, “can come great light when we share it with others.” He stepped off of the stage and lit a candle in the audience. Soon, light danced all over the room. There were now several people with lit candles lighting others’. All of the light in the room came from one source, the symbolistic light of that one candle—the Light of the World. It was amazing how bright the room became. We sang “Joy to the World,” and I celebrated with several hundred strangers.
‘Tis the season to be reminded of His advent and anticipate His second coming. Attend a candlelight service, dare to let yourself remember, and have your eternal hope reignited! Merry Christmas!