How the Babe Stole Grinchness

23 Dec

It’s been a really hard year. The kind of year that sinks it’s cold teeth into you and chills you all the way through. A year filled with moments of darkness, feeling hopeless and asking God difficult questions. Moments of waiting, endless waiting. Silence when I just want a comforting voice.

At times I’ve felt tested and tried and slightly heroic through it all, seeing the purpose in everything and the warmth of my forced bravery. Mostly, I just feel like I am tattered and tired, stuck in a perpetual tumble dry cycle hitting the edges with a loud clank.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s been the best year of my life.

The bundle of joy currently talking to herself from her crib in the other room, on this Christmas Eve eve at the magic hour of 3am is my game changer.

Everything about my life has flipped on it’s head, and I can’t even write a personal, self-aware blog without feeling a little silly.

A few years ago while I was still fighting that early-mid 20’s reality check of getting “old,” a women who had a good decade or so on me said something that rattled me.

“Your 30’s are so much better than your 20’s, because life is no longer about you.”

As I am currently living the last half a year of my 20’s, I couldn’t be more relieved.

I used to make a big deal about how I wasn’t really into Christmas. I couldn’t stand the annoying music or get into the traditions. I blamed my “Grinchness” on the pull of materialism and the lack of real meaning in our culture. Now I find myself changing the radio station not to avoid, but to seek out those familiar songs.

grinch

As old and tired as Mariah singing about all she wants for Christmas and hearing another butchered rendition of Oh Holy Night are, it’s the first time my daughter gets to hear any of this.

It’s not even so much the fun of toy shopping, but the awe on her face when seeing a Main Street twinkling with lights, her smile reminding my tired heart how All Things Become New on Christmas.

So I am exhausted. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t have any answers. I am tired of waiting. But there is a grand scheme of things and she reminds me.

I am so glad life isn’t about me.

I sing her those songs sang a thousand times, those words that were once soaked in meaning from telling The Greatest Story, and as I do they become rich again.

I know as a writer and lover of metaphors there isn’t one more powerful than the stark, mad pain of pushing a human being out of your own dark body into the light. It’s the closest thing to hell and heaven in a moment and it changes you deeply.

And I think of a young girl, bone-weary and aching, still reeling over the scandal of her swollen belly, laying in the dark in a barn, questioning if all the angel told her was true or if she was just insane.

(How could God use me to carry this dream for the world, this perfection, this miracle? How will I do this? What will become of us?)

Then the waves of pain came, the sweat and screams and the dark, dark red vision.

And then a searing white and a head first dive into the coldest waters.

Suddenly warmth.  A system-shock of the most undiluted love in tiny human form.

Joy, to all the world, in her arms.

And a weary new mother rejoices.

Because she knew every ache and pain, every tear and sickness, every moment when her body couldn’t move right and she had to keep her eyes open when she just wanted to drift off to sleep, was all worth it.

The world was anew and life was no longer about her, but God’s seemingly insane and backwards plan to bring redemption to all the humankind.

And so we sing and celebrate and eat and give and count it all joy when we go through hard times.

Because light always trumps darkness, good and love always win. 

And sometimes it takes a baby to remind us.

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2 Responses to “How the Babe Stole Grinchness”

  1. Aunt JoKay December 23, 2014 at 5:34 pm #

    Oh Brooke – this may well be the best thing I have yet read of yours. It has left me breathless in its openness, honesty, and revelation. Thank you for sharing! Love you and yours – I know your Christmas will be blessed in so many special ways.

  2. Kim Fusch December 23, 2014 at 6:14 pm #

    Glad you are finding snippets of time to write again! I love watching you grow. Blessings! Merry Christmas!

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