Tis’ the season…. I wake up. Tip-toeing around like usual so the slightest sound doesn’t wake the baby…or the toddler..or the preschooler. I admit…sometimes I say my morning prayer in the bathroom with the door closed afraid that once I exit and a footstep is heard, my window of quiet time will be lost.
Today I decide to courageously light the Advent wreath on the little table in our kitchen. I open the junk drawer ever so carefully to not make a sound as I retrieve the lighter. Once successful, I sit down and take a deep breath and look around me. Above me hangs the Christmas cards that have been trickling in. The light catches glitter on one and my attention draws to the stable animals. Then, I lean over and reread the mass card I received from my mother. I opened it yesterday, but did not really pay attention as I should have when I hung it up with the others.
“A God who became so small, could only be mercy and love.”
~ St. Therese.
The familiar “pricklies” that I’ve come to know course through my body and rise to my cheeks making a burning sensation. I have come to call this very tangible feeling of the Holy Spirit rising in me a kiss or a hug from my Lord. He speaks to me through this and I always know it is Him.
Smallness.
How contrary to this reflection of St. Therese does Christmas seem to be. Big gifts, Big meals, Big gatherings.
Yet, I think in my day to day life to those moments I make myself small so I can see with a real lens the needs of those I encounter…my students, my teachers, my parents, my friends, my own children, and so often last, my husband.
We are prone to judgment, to excuses, to our own limited reality. How do we make ourselves small like the infant Jesus? I have already shared the Litany of Humility in this blog from which I have received so much strength from consistent daily meditation, which in my opinion is the cornerstone of a growth mindset.
My moments of anxiety, bitterness, self-doubt stem from those times I curse my unfinished and cluttered house, my lack of balance between work and home, my lack of quiet time to write and pray, my parenting skills. It’s a lot of racket I want to escape, but I can’t because I have responsibilities to my family and my community.
I just recently shared with my staff the following Steve Jobs video. He explains how his metaphor for teamwork came from a humble interaction with an elderly widowed man whom he knew from cutting his lawn. Making himself small enough to interact with him taught a lesson that shaped Steve Jobs life. The metaphor revolves around the exploration of an old machine in his garage to polish ordinary stones.
While the stones were in the simple machine overnight, they made a lot of racket…but ultimately were smooth and beautiful to behold. This metaphor can be explored in great depth. But, let me say, I find it most beautiful that this moment ever occurred because Mr. Jobs wasn’t distracted or prideful, but made himself small, curious, and open to the world around him.
Sin is the racket in my life that takes me from this openness. The evil one uses my own insecurities to generate that anxiety, bitterness, and self doubt. It is loud and chaotic in my spirit at these times, yet they always bring me to my knees in supplication for God’s mercy. They always make me small, so I can receive his mercy and love.
In all of these real and vulnerable moments there is the little hand of my Lord, with his teeny tiny fingers holding on to my pointer finger. His trust is in Mary. He is God of the universe, so small, humble, and pure. That is why the evil one will always lose when we call upon the name above all names, Jesus Christ.
This Advent season I pray that God heals us. I pray that through our trials and our joys, He makes us small, like Him.
“A God who became so small, could only be mercy and love.”
~St. Therese
