my last minute Christmas prayer

My husband's incredible snoring woke me up at 3:45 AM. Just fifteen minutes before my alarm would go off, which is just as bad as four hours before my alarm would go off, because there is just something about seeing that number three on the clock that makes you feel exhausted. Maybe because I am exhausted. I think we are all exhausted.

Today is one week before Christmas Day. It is the week of "last minute." Get your last minute shopping done, wait until the last minute to buy a Christmas dress, bake those last minute cookies. It is the week we add more to the to-do list, add more to the crazy, add more to the hustle and bustle. LAST MINUTE everything. And I hate it.

Because correct me if I am wrong, and I think we all know this, but shouldn't this be the week of quiet time and reflection? Intentional preparing? Shaping our hearts into the empty manger for the sweet baby Jesus to rest? And again, correct me if I am wrong, but with this last minute madness and the pressure to pull it all off, what ever it even is, my guess is that if we are lucky, we will sneak in a last minute moment with Jesus....at Mass on Christmas Eve...standing in the back of the church...pissed off because our usual spot in the pew is filled with people who we have never even seen before, people who have probably never even stepped foot in the church before, and well, that can't even be fair...all because we couldn't get there early enough to grab a seat because we were doing last minute cleaning and wrapping, and so we sit...no wait, we stand... at Mass annoyed and irritated and then we do not even sing or smile at the people who are quite possibly returning to the Catholic Church for the first time in a long time, and so we never see them again and they go down the street to the more welcoming evangelical church with flavored coffee and happy faces and we roll our eyes and wonder what is wrong with them for leaving the Eucharist for flavored coffee, and why the heck did they not come back home to the Catholic Church where we find His true presence and where they belong....

Or maybe that's all just me.

Only it's not.

Because I will not be the only person at Target this week. Multiple times.

And I will not be the only one wrapping gifts at the final hour.

(And I will be singing and smiling...however, I have seen those who do not...you know who you are...why won't you sing????)

And I will not be the only one squeezing book edits in between working hours and cleaning toilets, trying to meet a manuscript deadline, while packing her house to move and getting ready to host the Christmas feast, while making dinner and doing laundry and rescheduling the kitten vaccinations, while the movers are here doing an estimate.

Well. Actually, that last one might be just me.

And I am thinking that maybe my husband's snoring was a gift from God, simply so that I could have some last minute quiet and reflection. A last minute extra cup of coffee with Jesus.

Because as I meditate on today's Gospel, I am comforted. Comforted not only by the unbelievable faith and trust of Mary and Joesph, but comforted in the knowing that despite their being faced with an amazingly difficult situation, we know how their story ends. Comforted that while both were presented with seemingly hideous plans...teen pregnancy and what appears like an unfaithful wife...still, they stayed together. Still they quietly followed. They heard the call, they felt the nudge, and they obeyed. Quietly.

It is the quietly that gets me because if you know me or my husband, the word quiet does not come to your mind. And if you could see the way my husband and I have been "conversing" lately, you would say we were the last two people that resemble Mary and Joseph. Our "spirited discussions" always...and I mean ALWAYS...involve at some point my husband stopping the back and forth by saying, "Here is MY POINT....." which is always followed by my saying, "I don't want to talk about it anymore, BUT the way that I FEEL...."

We are loud, fiery people, who must make it clear what we think, what we want, how we know it all should go down, even though neither one of us have a clue. And we can not be quiet. We can not remove the MY and the I from our mouths. Unlike Mary, I can not quietly say, "I am the handmaid of the Lord, use me as you will." And unlike Joseph, my husband can not say...well...Joesph kind of says NOTHING. So there ya have it. But the Gospel does say, "because he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, he decided to divorce her quietly." Neither one fought it. Neither one had to make it clear what they thought about the situation, what they needed, what their point about the matter was. They were quiet. And they did what God asked.

I am exhausted and wish I had those extra fifteen minutes of sleep, and yet I am certain that these will most likely be the most important fifteen minutes of my entire day. Because when the sun and the kids and the anxiety of this last minute week rises, I will have these fifteen minutes to draw my strength from. These quiet fifteen minutes spent alone in the dark silence with Mary and Joseph. You know, my husband and I may not respond like this Holy Family power couple, but we are not too unlike them. We are facing our own uncertainty in life right now, and question the right way to go. We are in the midst of our own situation that appears hideous and unfair from our earthly perspective. We too in a sense, have been pulled out of our comfort, are being asked to trust, but given zero details and instructions other than, "be not afraid." And my guess is, you are not too unlike them, as well.

And I think that is why we drag our self centeredness into our hard conversations, and even the easy ones. We are afraid. All of us. Afraid of what is yet to come. Afraid of how our story ends. Afraid of saying yes to God. Afraid of His plan. Afraid that if we give Him our very lives, we will lose everything. Which, sweet friends...this is why it is so important we spend time with these Saints, why we study God's Word, why we seek Him out in all we say and do. Because when we surrender it all to Him, we do not lose. We win. We gain everything. The proof is about to be swaddled and placed in the manger. The proof was already beaten and bruised and hangs on the cross.

I really want to respond like Mary. I really want to trust. I really want to be quiet. I really want my husband to be like Joseph and never speak. (Just kidding. I love his voice. But if he never snored again that would be awesome.) I really want to live every bit of my messed up life through an eternal perspective. And praise be to Jesus Christ, because at least for the last fifteen minutes or so, I did.

This is my last minute prayer.

That we each find fifteen minutes each day this week to quietly be with Mary and Joseph, to recognize our own scared selves in them, and to know that we need not to be afraid, because the end of the story is good.