Enough

Here I am, finally sitting down to write this, write something, procrastinating once again (or just finally getting around to this, it’s a dice roll these days) and I just can’t think of anything to say. What is there to say? I hear my extremely overtired toddler scream from her bedroom and my baby playing in my business catalogs. There are so many distractions, so many things that need to be done or finished or even started. What do I even have to say? I’m blank.

I’m so drained. There are always tiny people who need something or want something or need to be comforted or disciplined and guided. That’s pretty normal for a mom (or any parent) of two kids two and under. There’s my husband who needs me in other ways – emotional, spiritual, supportive – as he transitions out of active duty and we make arrangements for this next chapter of our lives. There are cookies to bake, presents to wrap, chores and other preparations for Christmas. There are those pesky Christmas cards that I haven’t even looked at to send out yet. There was the packing for vacation, vacation, and now the unpacking from vacation. There are my work commitments and always that health problem that my doctors just can’t put their fingers on. Then there is that funny way my anxiety medication makes my emotions go sort of flat in this way that I know I’m feeling an emotion but I just don’t feel it fully. Anxiety medication will do that to you, and thank heavens because really I need some leveling out in that department. But it’s interesting to not feel the feelings I know I’m feeling. It’s not a numbness but a void.

I have nothing. I’m really not much of anything either.

And so we coming barreling down the homestretch of Advent waiting for the greatest joy to occur and I stand and say, “How nice.” Not indifferently, I just simply have no other words left, no conglomeration of feelings to come bursting forth with praise on my tongue. The Lord of Heaven and Earth comes and I have nothing to offer – I don’t even know if my heart is cleaned out enough to receive Him or if I know where I last left the key to open it to Him. I stare at our nativity scene, at the empty manger bed, waiting to place the baby Jesus inside, and wonder if my heart could ever hold Him the way that manger did. Surely my heart is at least a slightly better home for Him than that manger bed was. Surely. Maybe? Even the little drummer boy could play a song for Him. But me? All I can muster is to stand and stare at Him. Literally that is all.

I stand and stare. Baby Jesus what do I have to give? To say to these people?

The toddler is crying again. I’ll have to go in after she finally falls asleep, pick her up from whatever random place in the room she has fallen asleep, and place her in bed. I’ll cover her with blankets, place her favorite stuffed animal under her arm, make the Sign of the Cross on her forehead, and whisper, “God bless and keep you. I love you.” Then I will tiptoe out of the room and she will never remember what happened. Yet my simple prayer for her, the simple movement of my thumb on her head will be enough.

I suppose I could avoid being so drained if I stopped caring so much about the cookies and the food and the cleaning. But I like those things. Those things bring me joy and peace because in doing them I am preparing. Preparing for family and friends. Preparing for me. Preparing for Jesus. We must prepare for Him in all ways, not only spiritual. He is a flesh and blood person as well as being the transcendent God. The preparation of my physical world is just as important as that of my spiritual life, and perhaps preparing my physical world to receive Him helps my spiritual life prepare for Him as well. Perhaps it is precisely because all I can do is stand and stare at the empty manger and ponder my own worthiness that I am made worthy. Perhaps being blank and drained isn’t such a terrible thing; Jesus is the fount of eternal life, after all. Perhaps that is enough. It was enough for God to become the tiniest of beings and to be completely dependent upon Mary and Joseph for every need of His. Perhaps that is enough.