The last time it happened was in 2005. Christmas Day was on a Sunday. I have to admit that I was both bummed and thrilled over the prospect of "working" on Christmas Day. The hours spent in church that morning would certainly slow us down and the road has always been our home on Christmas ... trying to get from one place to the other so that no one feels left out or let down. At the same time, how cool was this going to be to start Christmas morning with those who call themselves by the name of this Baby King and live our lives for Him?!
Little did I know just how cool these intimate, holy moments would be. Elizabeth was seven years old that year and, for her first solo contribution to worship, she was going to welcome Christ to our hearts and home again with this beautiful little song, "Happy Birthday, Jesus." With no announcements and a short, soft prelude finished, Elizabeth took her place at the center of the platform and began to sing. Her voice was clear and, of course, child-like, but powerful. After that first chorus, she took a breath to begin the first verse. The tears started at the same time. Like Peter focusing on the waves and wind instead of his Lord, Elizabeth began to really see all the faces looking back at her and felt small in that huge expanse of worship space. Faster than Santa and his reindeer, Elizabeth's mom appeared at the top step of the platform. She put her arm tight around her daughter's waist and we could hear two voices instead of one. Elizabeth never stopped singing. Some words were cloaked in tears, some were basically inaudible through the sobs, but she never stopped singing. And you know it, when verse two rolled around, she stood straighter and sang louder, clearer, more confidently. Before we could realize it, we could only hear Elizabeth's voice. Though Mom was sitting right there at her feet, Elizabeth was offering her gift the way she wanted to ... she never stopped singing.
Sounds crazy to say, but those of us gathered for worship on Christmas Day were surprised by the presence of Christ that morning. In Elizabeth's mom we saw just what God was doing with-skin-on in Jesus. God comes alongside us giving us life and strength, staying close and empowering us to offer ourselves the best way we can so that others can see what life in Him is like. And, in Elizabeth ... well, in Elizabeth we heard the same call and words of hope that the shepherds heard, that Simeon and Anna clung to, and - if you've heard the legend - that the little drummer boy was willing to trust. You, that's the best gift to offer this Baby King. Sometimes our words (and actions and thoughts and attitudes) will be cloaked with tears or worse. Sometimes our 'offerings' such as they are will be indistinguishable through the crud in our lives that is not of God. But, this Baby King loves us just the same and, I believe, was blown away by Elizabeth singing "Happy Birthday, Jesus" and is glorified and thrilled by us giving Him what we have.
Christmas Day doesn't have to be on Sunday for any of us to feel the holy weight of the moment. Those moments with Elizabeth and her mom changed my understanding of Christmas forever. This year, may you feel His presence, may you understand that Jesus was born for you, and may you never stop singing!
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