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Christmas is a season of interruptions. Some things we enjoy. Some people don’t.
I enjoy interrupting my diet for eggnog, working for staff parties, and paying for Christmas cards.
Interrupted. They come with Christmas. They come with life.
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Just when selling a crib, a surprise! Another child. Just when you’re ready to retire, a surprise! Plus tuition fees. Just when you think your plan is complete, you’re in for a surprise. More layoffs, surgeries, transfers, treatments.
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Interrupted. It can stir up fear and anxiety. They steal our sleep and pickpocket our joy. They can make us question God or turn away from Him.
You may be facing an interruption during this season of life. What you asked for and what you received don’t match. And now you feel troubled, anxious, and even angry. Does it represent you?
It certainly described our family on a recent Christmas.
It was the second weekend of Advent. I spent the day preparing and speaking for the Saturday night church service. By the time I arrived home, it was already evening. Denalin was waiting for me in the kitchen. I could tell by the look on her face that something was wrong.
“Max, Jenna is pregnant.”
Her presentation did not match her attitude. Denalyn should have waved her arm and hugged me. Finally grandparents! But there was no confetti, just worry. Her eyes filled with tears.
“She’s in the emergency room.”
We rushed to the hospital.
Emergency rooms don’t often have Christmas decorations. The garland does nothing to make his X-ray machine look festive. Red and green light bulbs cannot cast a happy light on the stretcher. No matter what song is on the intercom, the monitor beeps louder than sleigh bells. ER is still ER. Even at Christmas. And my daughter was in the ER.
A nurse led us down a hallway to a room. Jenna was on the bed. For about 10 seconds, she stoically tried and succeeded. Then she started crying. She wanted to surprise her family. She wanted to make a fuss about her Christmas pregnancy. she wanted a baby.
By the end of the night, I realized that was unlikely.
By the next morning, the doctor assured me that this could not be the case.
It’s already been a tough season for Jenna and her husband, Brett. His father passed away a month ago. Their November was gray with sadness. Well, this trend has become even stronger in December.
Jenna said Christmas felt more like a holiday than a holiday.
Maybe you feel the same way. There were more tears than cheers. It’s worse than fun.
Happy children remind me of empty cribs.

Christian worshipers hold candles during a candle service ahead of Christmas celebrations at St. Paul’s Church in Amritsar on December 22, 2021. (Photo by Narinder Nanu/AFP via Getty Images)
Someone else’s busy social schedule only highlights your empty schedule.
Photos of families together only intensify the pain when families are separated.
If this season is hard for you, if you’re looking forward to December 26th rather than December 25th, then I have a story for you to think about. A story about a young girl.
She tried to keep a good attitude, but it wasn’t easy. She was far from her home, miles from her family and from her own bed. She had spent the past few days on busy roads, braving the winter cold. Money was short. My friends were nowhere to be found. A warm bed and a hot meal? The prospects were bleak.
If you ask her which is worse, heart pain or back pain, she will be spoiled for choice.
Her heart ached for her family. She felt alienated from them. Under normal circumstances, they would have been overjoyed to learn of her pregnancy. But pregnant before the wedding? Her conservative family and her strange explanation?
And do I have to tell the man I was planning to marry that I have a child that is not his? It was a miracle he was still married to her. And what she needed that night was another miracle.
She imagined giving birth at home. Her mother holds one hand and her aunt holds the other. Her midwife, her beloved relatives, Joseph, and the neighbors gathered outside the door. Perhaps if they could all experience the birth of her firstborn together, they would believe her story.
At least, that’s how I imagine Mary felt. Of course, I could be wrong.
Instantly, Starhanger’s hand grasped Mary’s finger. Skywalker’s foot was in Joseph’s palm. No wonder angels filled the sky with worship. His doubts about his Father’s love disappeared the night God wrapped him in a towel to keep the hay from hurting his back.
At that moment, Mary knew it was worth it. The pain in her back, the pain in her heart, they were gone. The question of how and when lingered. There was no place for her son at the inn. That was fine. He will find a place in people’s hearts.
On the night of Jesus’ birth, she and Joseph were far from home. That was fine. Jesus moved further away from him. Was there no warm bed for Jesus to sleep in? no problem.

The U.S. Capitol Christmas Tree stands on Capitol Hill on November 29, 2022 in Washington, DC. (Brendan Smialowski/AFP via Getty Images)
Despite the chaos, Christ came.
After a scandalous pregnancy, a forced census, an untimely trip, and an overcrowded inn, God triumphed over Mary’s story.
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Despite sin and scandal, Christ came.
Christ came despite racism and sexism.
Emergency rooms don’t often have Christmas decorations. The garland does nothing to make his X-ray machine look festive. Red and green light bulbs cannot cast a happy light on the stretcher. No matter what song is on the intercom, the monitor beeps louder than sleigh bells. ER is still ER. Even at Christmas. And my daughter was in the ER.
People forgot God, but Christ came.
In spite of and through the chaos, Christ came.
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Don’t need that reminder? In a world of short nights, hard work, and high stress, don’t we need to know that Jesus holds it all together?
And he will put it together for you.
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