Christmas: the time came

The candle flickers. 

Just enough light to see the words. 

While they were there in Bethlehem to register, “the time came for her to give birth” (Luke 2:6).

The time came. 

On a short-term trip. In the midst of a temporary stay. Far from family and the familiar.

The time came in a dirt-floor shed where animals were kept and fed. Mary “gave birth to her firstborn Son and she wrapped him tightly in cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them” (Luke 2:7).  

Normal birthing plans disrupted, shifted, changed by a foreign government’s mandate. 

But the time came in His time. His way. 

I am the Lord’s servant

Consider that first encounter with the angel. Mary’s surprise and question about the Lord’s assignment. His calling. 

In the midst of shock and awe, she had ears to hear Gabriel’s assurance, “For nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1:37).

Her response by faith was simply, “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be done to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

The young woman who would bear the Word surrendering to His will and His way, according to His word. 

And the time came.

Relocating one Christmas

During the week of Christmas 2010, we moved from Singapore to India. 

Leaving sunny tropical weather, we landed in New Delhi’s winter. 

Dusty, cold, and damp. 

Fog shrouded the city. And the smoke of small wood fires permeated the air.  Fires warming countless people on the vast network of streets and alleys.  

We stayed in temporary quarters. Living out of suitcases.  Wondered where to find groceries. Searched for a flat to call home. 

And felt the winter chill of tile floors and no heat. 

We moved there because the time came. After months of preparation and a few delays. It was in His time. His way.

First Christmas in Delhi

Delhi is fascinating. An historic city, rich in culture.

The ancient standing alongside the contemporary. Boasting a wealth of colors and sounds and flavors.

There’s much to explore and discover.

We ventured out those first few days. Toured old Delhi. And made plans for a quiet Christmas in the temporary flat.

But on Christmas Day things did not go as planned. I was sick. 

Todd and our children went on to a Christmas brunch at the home of new friends. And I rested in the cold living room, wrapped in a blanket. 

Feeling the fog of illness. And the fog of transition. 

Our “Mary-and-Joseph Christmas”

Later that day the simple plans for Christmas dinner became even simpler. 

We ordered pizza. 

Which never arrived. (The rest of that story is below.)

Plan B? We threw together a pot of soup made with instant noodles found in the small neighborhood market. 

No Christmas turkey, but ramen with a twist. Spicy curry flavor.

In the middle of these upside-down plans, we finally laughed. Maybe to keep from crying.

And called it our “Mary-and-Joseph-Christmas.” 

Simple. Unfamiliar. Unexpected.  I had to sift through expectations that day and hold fast to what is true.

Teach me, Lord  

Today I sit in a warm house decorated with some of our favorite Christmas decor. But flickering candles cast gentle light in the darkened room and remind me of that simple Christmas in Bethlehem. 

Without all the trappings. 

And as the Lord leads from place to place, I learn from the obedience of Mary. 

I ask for a heart to surrender and obey, no matter what. 

To simply walk by faith in the unknown and ponder all that takes place. Holding on to what is true.

Recounting His faithfulness to others. 

Resting in the assurance of His time. And His way.

What about you?

Have you ever celebrated Christmas away from the familiar? In temporary quarters? I would love to hear your story.

Related post:  My soul magnifies the Lord

Note: Last year I shared Winter Pause about the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. A week of reflection and transition. If you missed it, check it out here.

On another note…

Remember that undelivered pizza? 

Later that night we had a phone call from some co-workers who had been living in Delhi for while. They said a curious thing had happened several hours earlier. 

A pizza delivery guy showed up at their door with pizza. Said it was what they had ordered. They told him it wasn’t theirs, but he insisted. 

They finally bought it in the spirit of peace and good will. As they ate the mysterious pizza, they pondered this curious experience. 

Then they remembered. 

The Lafferty family was using a temporary cell phone. The same phone they had used previously—you guessed it—to order pizza. 

Mystery solved. Christmas pizza enjoyed. Well, by our friends, anyway!