Weaving Joy and Jesus

Sunday was the first day of Advent and a low-grade excitement is bubbling just under my cool exterior. It’s that time of year when we prepare our hearts for Christ’s coming, remembering the first time He came as a tiny baby and looking ahead to the time when He will come again to set all things right. 

As a busy mom, this can be an exhausting time: there are gifts to buy, meals to plan, travel dates to coordinate and celebrations to squeeze into those tiny spaces on our calendars. And sometimes all of that can feel more like chores than cheer. 

And yet, despite the chaos and the consumerism, despite the misplaced expectations and the inevitable disappointments, I love this season. I love the excuse to turn our hearts again toward this story that is the seed of the Gospel. I love the excuse to do what I love to do with my children: weave Jesus and joy into the fabric of our home.

 And so I stay up late and wrap borrowed Christmas books, so we’ll have one to open each day: my cheap little cup of Christmas cheer. I tuck clever little Christmas bucket-list plans into the pockets of our advent calendar: memories made are sweeter than chocolate. And I lovingly prepare our devotional plans to tell afresh the story from creation to cradle.

Throughout December, we’ll gather round to read our Christmas devotional. There will be snuggling and twinkle lights, fights and make-rights, verses about hope and Christmas hymns, there will be longings that gnaw at us and games that distract us, people we miss and places where we feel always on the periphery. There will be cousins and cookies, grandparents and gingerbread houses, sometimes-awful attitudes and advent candles, Christmas choirs and nativity plays. And each day, with the ups and the inevitable downs, into the warp and the woof of all these ordinary days, I will mindfully be weaving.

 I will weave for them the threads that connect the heartache and hope of Eden to the miracle of the manger and the ache of Advent. I will weave into the sorrows of our year, the hope that holds us together: that one day sin and sorrow, death and decay, will be a distant memory because the resurrected Christ will come again to judge the living and the dead, and to establish a kingdom without end.

 I won’t weave this masterpiece perfectly. But I’ll lean into this season’s work, knowing it is worthy. Weaving joy and Jesus into the ordinary fabric of our days, criss-crossing again our sorrows and our failures with the threads of Christ’s coming and His perfections. I know my kids won’t remember many individual days in these blurry years. But I hope they will remember some indescribable feeling of warmth that wrapped them in love in this Advent home, woven in faith. 

Mamas, we are weavers. Can I just encourage you in this worthy work of weaving Jesus and joy into their hearts? Mindfully weave Gospel threads and love into their lives. Advent is the perfect season to start again if you’ve lost the thread. It’s a perfect time to rehearse the stories that lead to the advent of our Messiah. It’s the perfect time to talk about the longing we still have as we ache for the day when He will make all things right.