everchanging view

one part of my job at Lake Forest Church during this season of Advent has been to write our Advent readings and prayers.  
here's what we read and prayed together this morning.

a few years ago i stumbled across a book that has rocked my world repeatedly, challenging me and my various whacked points of view: listening to your life by frederick buechner.
the reading for monday was this:
'what if anything have you and i done to battle against the great darkness of things?
as parents and the children of parents,
as wives and husbands and friends and lovers,
as players of whatever parts we have chosen to play in this world,
as wielders of whatever kind of power,
as possessors of whatever kind of wealth,
what other human selves have we sacrificed something of our own sweet selves to help and heal?'

even now, as i type this, i can feel my heart lurch inside my chest,
what HAVE i done?
what AM i doing?
now, i help the poor and all that jazz.  i volunteer and serve and give.
but what does it cost me?  what have i sacrificed of my own sweet self???
AND (dang it,  frederick) he starts with parents and children and husbands and wives and friends...not the poor homeless people out there to whom we can write a check, put it in an envelope and send it on.  (please know that i'm not discounting that at all; write that check and send it)
instead he asks how am i sacrificing (not just giving...there is a marked difference) of my own sweet self to those that are closest to me?  for me, sometimes it's easiest to give to those who aren't as close to me, who don't piss me off or hurt my feelings or diss me. but when it's the ones who day in and day out are up in my face....
that's hard.  and i suck at it.

i have a friend whose mom is staying with her.  her mom is sick. and high maintenance.  and self absorbed.  she abdicated self care years ago both physically and emotionally so she's feeble and frail.  in body and spirit.  and even though my friend is struggling herself with acute and chronic back pain, i watched her tenderly care for her mom; sacrifice of her sweet self to help and heal.  quietly, like the widow dropping her mite in the offering plate, fixing her mom's plate, giving her medicine, changing a bandage on a wound that is slow to heal.

buechner goes on to quote a traditional advent prayer: 'give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness and put upon us the armor of light.'
put on the light like a garment. like a uniform.

this, this giving of our sweet selves in order to battle against the great darkness of things, is the meaning of Christmas to me.  choosing to give because Christ chose to give.  following His example of giving up his God-dom (or whatever)  to put on human skin and flawed humanity among those who had no use for him, who didn't recognize who he was or what he was saying.
who dissed him.

when i think about my life,  it's so freakin' easy to be selfish, to let myself off the hook, to cling to my rights.  but i want to wear the uniform.  so today i'm putting it on.  and we'll see about tomorrow...