That Christmas should be a time of joy and peace is a given. That it’s often instead a time of stress and disagreement is also a given. No matter how much we try peel back the stress of gift buying and meal planning to glimpse the holiness beneath, things can get complicated.
A case in point:
My wife has taken the kids to town under the ruse of some last minute shopping. But the truth? She wanted to put a little distance between my children and me. It’s been a rough morning in the child-rearing department. Lots of crying and screaming and tantrum-throwing. And that’s just on my end.
I’m a big believer in The Rules of the House, those dictums set in place by my wife and I in order to ensure peace and domestic tranquility. Kids need structure, I think. Boundaries. They need to know what’s expected of them and what will happen if they shirk their responsibilities. In the space of four short hours this morning, more than a few of those rules have been broken.
Two rooms have gone uncleaned. One set of teeth has gone unbrushed. One shoving match had to be broken up, two sets of pajamas had to be picked up, and the remains of a Play-Doh battle had to be cleaned up. All by me. The result? One lecture, one mini-sermon, and an exodus to Target so Daddy can have some alone time to calm down.
I’m using this opportunity in a constructive manner by putting together the centerpiece of my daughter’s Christmas—an easel. Complete with dry erase board, chalkboard, and painting paper. When finished, it will be a springboard to creativity. Problem is, I’m not sure it will ever be finished.
I’ve been at this an hour, and so far I have a total of one piece put together. One. And it’s the smallest one. The one that actually came out of the box with the screw already in it. All I had to do was tighten the stupid thing.
And yes, I’m using the directions. I’m not so vain a man as to believe that an instruction manual is an unnecessary waste of a tree. Ignoring the directions isn’t the problem. The problem is the directions themselves.
Consider: Insert wood screw A into slot A and rotate counter-clockwise into tab B, securing with bolt K, washer L, and nut C. Align both into slot D and secure with bolt M, then repeat process with opposite side O.
See what I mean? It would be easier for me to split the atom.
This experience hasn’t been all bad, though. I’ve found a new respect for God that may have otherwise gone unacknowledged. I can’t put together a simple toy, yet He put together an entire universe. On the other hand, maybe it would have taken Him longer if He had to go by directions like these.
Isn’t that the way with instructions sometimes? They’re necessary, no doubt. But the people writing them are often either too educated or too vague to allow a guy like me an understanding of exactly what they mean and what I need to do.
That, I think, is why Christmas is so amazing.
I’ve read there are about 613 rules in the Old Testament that govern what people had to do in order to find favor with God. Eat this, not that. Wash this way, not that way. Accept this, shun that. Having to follow all those instructions would be pretty daunting.
But the joy of Christmas is all that those instructions were rewritten in the form of a baby. The way to God was simplified. Those 613 steps were reduced to just these few—we can’t get to God, so He came to us. Believe in the child from the manger, and you’ll have life everlasting.
I’m not sure, but there are probably close to 613 rules in our house. That’s way too many, I think. So in the spirit of Christmas, I’m going to simplify them—take care of others, and take care of yourself. That should cut down on the crying and screaming and tantrum-throwing. From the kids, too.
I’m thankful the instruction manual for my life doesn’t involve slots or tabs or funky maneuverings. The God of my life isn’t the easel sort of God. I take comfort in that.
It helps me know that even if my Christmas has yet to be in order, I am.
Post by Billy Coffey of billycoffey.com. Photo by Ann Voskamp of Holy Experience.
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Billy, I’m a structured, organized, a little bit OCD, rules-loving kinda gal. I guess some might say that I’m a “Martha” (Mary & Lazarus’ sister… Not Martha Stewart.) Sometimes, I think I just need to loosen up. And I think that sometimes, Jesus agrees. When Mary sat at His feet to listen to Him, Martha complained. But Jesus said, “Martha, Sweetheart, loosen up. I’d rather you sit down with me and let me love on you. The other stuff will take care of itself.” And I’m starting to think that maybe he was right.
Oh you, Billy Coffey.
YOU are Christmas joy, through and through.
When putting toys, etc. together, I only read the instructions as a last resort. I did the same in life for a lot of years — still do sometimes I’m afraid. I’m grateful that God is more forgiving, and His Grace fills in the missing pieces. As always, thanks for making me think. Even if it is pretty early in the morning for thinking.
I once faced the task of putting together a new stereo unit, and discovered that the store had not included the directions in the box. I called, and was told the directions wouldn’t help anyway, because they were in Danish. Well, yes.
What God did in Bethlehem translates in all languages, without detailed instructions. Great post, sir.
I echo all of the above comments. A wonderful, thought-provoking post.
We are our own stress-makers. We can also be our own de-stressors. Especially in this Season of Advent, slowing down, being still, waiting are what we should be doing. (And throwing away unintelligible instructions.)
Merry Christmas!
Dude, I love the simplicity of the Message that you share here! We do seem to overcomplicate things sometimes, but the Message is simple… sometimes too simple for many of us to believe.
Great post Billy! This resonates well with me today…
Simplifying the rules? Just wait till they’re teenagers. I went from “make your beds, put away your toys, and file your books in order on the shelf ” to “please keep your bedroom door closed so I don’t have to see the disaster area that passes for living space.”
Only a few things truly matter, and thankfully they all learned to sit at Jesus’ feet. Have a wonderful Christmas, Billy. May all your slots be merry and your tabs bright.
I am so the same way! I love rules, structure, boundaries, a neat, tidy, domestic tranquility. Sometimes the messiness and confusion of life interfere with all that and I’m left mucking about with screws and bolts. The harder I try, the worse it gets. Like you, I’m thankful for grace. And I’m also thankful that Christmas will soon be over.
When I was your age that stuff put my guts in a twist and made me just nasty to be around. My need for order wasn’t my family’s need. Then I got bopped on the head with the grand scheme of things. The Lord taught me to take a step sideways and instead see the amusement in situations and to consider the true importance at hand. Frankly, the joyfulness in your children’s messy play makes me smile, but your dramatic reaction makes me laugh. Laugh because I so recognize myself! Well, honestly, I’ve had things perfect, and I’ve had out of control, perfect isn’t better.
I us the instructions too–and still mess it up. I think it’s a lesson that when man gets involved, the simple gets complicated whether putting together toys or trying to live righteously.
This is a great post, Billy. Thanks!
I also read that the 613 some laws can be summed up by Habakkuk 2:4 – “…but the righteous will live by his faith”. Faith in the life, death, and resurrection of that baby from the manger. “Immanuel – God with us.” – Matt 1:23
And Paul quoted this verse from Habakkuk in three different places to explain it further. Rom 1:17, Gal 3:11, and Heb 10:38
Oh yes, getting your knickers in a knot, whether it is over broken house rules or Einstein-level toy instructions, often proves to be a one-person hissy fit parade.
In regard to parenting, the phrase “What hill are you willing to die on?” clangs loudest when I bang about little things. Then my heart ponders what hill He died upon, what cross He carried, and for whom the nails were pounded through His flesh. Then I humbly untangle my knickers…
pssst, duct tape ripped into narrow strips and tightly pulled across and wrapped around all slots, bolts and otherwise mystery attachment sites, ought to solve your easel quandary–official advice from A Simple Country Girl whose head falls off as directions are unfolded
I love this post! Thanks for sharing your parenting mess-ups and the things God has shown you as you put together a Christmas gift. I love how you found a meaningful message amid the mundane!
Wonderful post.
Oh goodness. You make me laugh.
But hey, are you sure a baby is simpler than 613 rules? ; – )
Even the best parents occasionally need a time out : )
Loved this post!
I have been known to wisk the kids off to Target to give my hubby some time alone…. and when we come back he always has a look on his face that shows grace.
Love this post.
i love it.
thanks for the smile.
Well, I know your story wasn’t really about the easel, but I do hope you manage wrestle that thing together in the next few days!