If You’re Bumping Your Head Against Christmas

One morning a few weeks ago, I couldn’t stop bumping my head.

Literally, you ask?

Yes, literally.

We normally have a pretty relaxed morning routine around the Collie house — breakfast, coffee, kids play, kids get dressed, middle kid goes to preschool, little one piddles around the house or colors or does puzzles while Mom and the oldest rock the homeschool.

But that particular morning, we were running a little behind on that routine and when we got to preschool, I wasn’t sure if the doors would still be open on the drop-off side, so I walked TigerTank into class instead while the other two waited in the car. Only, TigerTank didn’t want to stay at school when I walked him in. It was probably a combination of a long, long weekend full of fun activities with a special uncle and his girlfriend, who were in town, plus a few nights of getting to stay up more than a little past bedtime with all the holiday excitement surrounding Thanksgiving, plus this one ornament he discovered on the back of an old coloring book that he really wanted to cut out and hang on the tree.

I seriously think he was worried we’d do it without him.

He was so upset, obviously tired, and a hot mess, and I had two kids waiting in the car. I gave up on convincing him to stay at preschool and decided to just bring him home.

We never have an issue like this at the drop-off spot, so the next few mornings, I was extra-eager to get everyone together and into the van to take TigerTank to preschool in a timely fashion, so that we could follow the normal routine and drop him off.

Our house was filled with

Why aren’t you dressed yet!?!

Get your shoes on! C’mon!

Where is your book bag, for goodness sake!?!?


If you want to come, you have to come now. We are leaving now.

Oh, the world of hurt that we could avoid if we never tried to hurry.

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I hurried. And plopped a baby girl still in PJs into her car seat, and scurried round the van to squeeze buckles around a toddler’s puffy winter coat.

And that’s when I whacked my head — hurrying to get into the van and get the kid buckled. I didn’t coordinate my entry into the van and the step up to reach into the back and buckle the kid.


Oh my stars, it hurt. My head throbbed throughout the drive to preschool.

Perhaps less than an hour later, I was trying to hurry my way through a Math lesson. It was a simple review lesson that I wanted to just hurry through so we could move on to “more important” things.

The Belle was piddling around, and found a little box of dominoes, which she promptly opened up, and turned over, meaning Dominoes spilled everywhere.

I huffed with frustration at the kid who didn’t want to move through the math lesson at my pace and the baby who wanted to get into everything.

I bent down under the table to pick up some dominoes and bang — I whacked my head. Yes, again.

And oh my stars, it hurt. Again.

After the second bump, I slowed down to think about what was going on. Like old Rafiki told Simba, The past can hurt, but you either run from it, or learn from it.

Since I didn’t want to bump my ahead again, I decided to pay attention.

A week later, I was still thinking. I can be a slow learner.

But here’s one conclusion:

I have an idea in my mind about what’s important.

That idea is often wrong.

I was rushing through getting the kids in the car to keep in time with my agenda for the day. And I was rushing through that Math lesson because I had a Christmas agenda and I wanted to get on with it. We had a library trip planned that afternoon and I wanted to bring our friends at the library cookies.

Sure, showing people you appreciate them is good, and thoughtful at this time of year. But is it more important than loving my kids, and handling them in a way that shows them that they matter, that they have value, and they are more important than how I feel if I have to arrive somewhere late?

Is getting the kids into the car to get them there on time more important than slowing down and looking them in the eyes and telling them you love them before sending them out into the world?

We’re here, Christmas is nearly here — and we’re celebrating the coming. And what does this coming mean? Before Jesus came, a few things were holy, a lot of things were common, and some were downright unholy.

But what did Paul say? Whether you eat or drink — whatever you do, do it all to the glory of God.

I bump my head when I fail to remember: this too, can be for the glory of God.

Sweeping streets or building cathedrals: it all has potential for glory.

This is the Good News: Ready or Not, He comes.

Will we make room? Be a space that welcomes the unexpectedly glorious?

We don’t need to be in a hurry. We don’t need to have everything prepared. Nothing we do or leave undone will change the fact that Jesus has come, He does come, and He will come again.

When we’re bumping our heads, He comes to remind us to slow down, enjoy the moments we’re given instead of hurrying through them to get to the next thing.

His glorious goodness arrives into the humble Bethlehem stables of our souls. And He whispers the truth we so desperately need to hear in our brokenness:

God is with us. Though we fail and fall short. Though we hurry and fuss and holler at our kids. Though we get angry in traffic. Though we’re selfish, prideful, and pretty much a mess.

God-with-us comes to find us. Comes to do for us what we can’t do ourselves.

Grace to be still. Grace to keep going. He comes with great grace.

And the whole incredible story starts so small, like a single candle being lit, one tiny flame growing brighter.

Like one tiny little baby being born in a remote corner of the world.

Be still for a moment, friends. Expect to see Him in unexpected places. Take a deep breath, be ready to make room. Let the good news that your performance isn’t make-or-break soak in.

Soak in this: He is the Gift from the Giver Who Keeps on Giving, and He is with us.

Merry Christmas.



She Was Born in a Barn

Story has it my grandmother, born this very day almost a hundred years ago, was born in a barn. It was so cold that night, the pail of water they had nearby was frozen. I faintly remember her telling me the story when I was a child. I think long and hard about that arrival, the second daughter, to be followed by a son.

No matter where a person gets started, there’s really no telling where they’re going.

I don’t know the story of my grandfather, the one who gave my Dad his last name and not much else. They married young, she was pregnant fast and it was just too much. My six month old Dad — I’ve read letters that he was bright-eyed, happy and brown as a berry. That’s a complement in the South. Whatever he was, it wasn’t enough for his Dad to stay.

He took off, wrote letters here and there, sent a gift here and there, but started a new family halfway across the country. I met him for the first time, and felt incredibly uncomfortable, at age 12. My Dad picked me up from school to have lunch with him. I don’t remember asking many questions, except if I could go and get my peanut butter and jelly sandwich out of the car.

Sometimes Dads don’t stick around.

Enough times it happens, that some call it an epidemic for this generation: Fatherlessness. They say it’s at the root of so many other issues, and I agree: Men who choose not to be present, not to be fathers, to children that are rightfully theirs.

But there’s another story.

There’s this other barn — this place where the animals stayed, 2,000 years ago and halfway around the world.

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I imagine him there, holding the hand of this frightened young girl, who understands something miraculous is happening and she is a part of the story — but does he really know? When the shepherds arrive? When the Wise Men bring gifts? Does he see the star, too?

What will become of this baby, born in a barn?

No matter where a person gets started, there’s really no telling where they’re going.

This was a place where a man decided to do the opposite of what so many do — he said, “This baby isn’t mine. But I’ll stay, I’ll be present. I’ll be the father here on earth.”

From the very beginning, this is the Gospel that turns our upside down world rightside up.

In a world where fewer and fewer men are staying when they should, God’s story shows a man of character who stands in the gap and stays, when the world might say he shouldn’t.

In a world where teen pregnancy is a hushed and shushed troublesome issue, God chooses to birth Someone miraculous.

I wonder what rumors floated around. And I wonder — if this couple was from Bethlehem, did they have no family there still to stay with? Or were the people there unwilling to welcome them in? An indictment in a culture so renowned for hospitality, what was at the root of this — the woman about to have a baby being given room at the barn?

He was born in a tiny corner of the Roman Empire, which stretched further than it ever had before, or has since, so that it was called Terraram orbis imperium — the Empire of the Whole Earth.

This is the story for the whole Earth, turning rightside up the upside down ways of the whole earth.

Giving fathers to the fatherless.

Did he come from wealthy parents? Would the shepherds find him in the finest home in Bethlehem wearing the nicest robes a baby could wear? No — he arrived to parents so poor they could not afford to make room for themselves, promptly wrapped in swaddling cloths, perhaps best translated as torn and tattered rags, with a feeding trough for a crib.

Was he born into a reigning kingdom? No — to a people, now recently subjugated to Roman rule, so that he was rather less like a citizen and rather more like a subject of whom tribute would be required.

Not even born in the great city of Jerusalem, where the kings of Judea long presided? No — in humble Bethlehem, The House of Bread, comes the Bread of Life. From the City of David, as it was also known, from the lineage of David, came the humble servant who is the King of Kings.

Jesus — the name means God saves. Emmanuel — God with us.

God is with us — and He saves.

And nothing about the story seems like the story most of the world would write for the arrival of the King of Kings.

In fact, it mostly seems like the opposite.

We craned our necks to see what Kate might be wearing on her wedding day, the day she became royalty. And the magazines follow the little prince George. What is he wearing, where is he traveling? What a glorious future awaits an earthly future king!

But this is the story of the King who left all the perfection of heaven to come to a humble birth on Earth. A peasant, a tribute and tax paying subject. A babe the world wouldn’t make room for. Who came not to be served but to serve.

This upsidedownrightsideup story is just so beautiful — so gloriously different from what the world expected, which makes it infinitely better.

You might still be hustling and bustling with gift lists and parties — your list longer than a strand of Christmas lights, filled with things to do.

But know that the Savior of the world came to do the things we couldn’t: and we can rest in the receiving of this, our Greatest Gift.

The striving can cease. That most important, eternal thing that needed doing has already been done.

Let Him whisper words of rest to your hearts today friends. In the stilling and the listening, you’re being the people who make room for the most unlikely King.



The Christmas You Might Be Looking For

“A little more tree… a little more snow…
a couple more reindeer, a couple more bows.
Another dozen cookies just in case the neighbors show…
A little more joy, for Christmas.”

Last weekend, my favorite football team was playing, and with my brother in town, it was certain that we would all be watching. The game was only being televised on ESPN-U (or maybe it was ESPN-3, I can’t remember which), but that meant we were streaming the game live over the internet.

Now if you’ve ever watched live content on the internet, you may have had the (mis)fortune of one interesting discovery: sometimes, one or two advertisers purchase all of the commercial slots for that live broadcast, and you will watch the. same. commercial. again. and again. and again.

And for us, this game?

It was Walmart.

And that little jingle I just typed out from memory up there? We heard it about thirty-seven times. At least. And it keeps going – a couple more verses about getting just a little bit more packed into the holiday season.

But it was only the next day, when it was still swirling in my head, that I considered the meaning behind the message.

It’s the message we get every day, from sometime in October when the decorations first start emerging, until some point in the New Year when they get heavily discounted and disappear.

Walmart is saying what most retailers want us to believe: you will find the joy you’re looking for this season when you find the perfect gifts, the perfect decorations, the perfect activities, and the perfect accessories for your holiday. That’s how to make your holiday season perfect…right?

I think you know the answer to that question, but let’s keep chatting.


A Saturday later, my Mom, the kids and I strolled down to the Christmas parade in our wee town for the first time ever. They gushed with smiles as they filled hands with candy, waved at the floats and motorcycles, the bands and the people all strolling by. There was red and green, there were elves, jingle bells and music, and Santa finished it all off, waving proudly from his perch atop a shiny fire truck.

It was fun and we smiled and laughed and enjoyed the moment.

As soon as that grand finale fire truck had passed us by, we turned to head back to the car. But before we’d taken a step, my eldest, always quick to speak his mind, piped up very indignantly:

Wait! How come Jesus wasn’t in the parade? Because that’s the whole thing about Christmas anyway.

I was speechless. I hadn’t prompted this question. I’m dead honest when I say it didn’t once occur to me.

We came to a Christmas parade, but he was frustrated because he didn’t find Jesus.

And isn’t that sometimes what happens? And the way I’ve sometimes felt when I’ve arrived at Christmas morning? I’m surprised I hustled and bustled and thought about gifts and decorations and events and planning and lights, but I’ve always felt just a little bit empty because I didn’t spend very much time with Him, or even really deeply thinking about Him.

We can come to the Christmas season, and leave frustrated because we don’t really find Jesus here.

When we got home from the parade, among the pencils and lollipops and Hershey kisses spilled onto the counter, I found a candy cane with a note attached. I hurried to show it to the Bear. The note explained the symbolism of this simple piece of candy — the red stripes for the Saviour who shed His blood for us, white, because He was sinless and pure, and the “J” shape for Jesus, which, turned around, becomes a staff, to represent our good Shepherd, the Lord.

We found Jesus there — just a glimmer of a glimpse of Jesus to ponder — but we had to look for Him.

The big tree and the extra snow and the extra reindeer and the big bows? They might be what makes you feel like you’re “Christmasing” again.

But the acts of kindness, the selfless service, the generosity to the “least of these” and, yes, even a thoughtful piece of candy passed to a child in a parade — these are places where you’ll find a heart like Christ’s.

This is the place where you find the people who are saying The greatest gift has already been given, and I’ve received it. It’s my turn to give gifts to the One born in the manger, the One born to be a gift for the whole world to unwrap.

This is the Hope that has come and does come and will come again — the Christmas we can look for, because He’s always been looking for us.




Expect the Unexpected

Expect the Unexpected

O, Holy Night. That’s how the part of His story that we’re celebrating these days began. We think about the Little Town of Bethlehem, the Silent Night, and that precious little bundle tucked Away In A Manger.

When kings come? They come with pomp and ceremony and excitement and fanfare. But the King of Kings? He chooses a quiet night to let His glory be revealed — not to princes, but to paupers. He chooses a tiny town that didn’t have a glorious history or inspirational curb appeal.

He chooses a very young woman from an ordinary family. An earthly father that will typically avoid making a scene.

If you’re looking, you may find glimpses of this King in places you don’t expect this season (and all year long.)

God’s Love shows up in unexpected places.


We sat down together on the couch last night, children long gone to bed, and we both almost simultaneously said we felt like Monday had punched us in the face.

We laughed and took a deep breath, sat for a while, and there in the quiet, one little email with one little bit of very good news — that was enough, and it was a gift, and it was Love in perfect timing.

It’s December, but I’m still breathing gratitude.

If God’s Love shows up in unexpected places, then we His people should be showing His Love in unexpected places, too. This is a great season for asking yourself how you can love. How can you love the least of these? How can you show up in someone’s little quiet, forgotten Bethlehem of a life to share God’s love?

Do what you can to shush the hustle bustle — get quiet, listen and you might hear the voice of God whispering out: names, places, ideas for you, ways for you to love.

Expect the unexpected. It seems the King of Kings wouldn’t have it any other way.


Expect the Unexpected

Oh Come, and See the Light

When it’s nighttime round our house, and one of us grown-ups needs to sneak to the kitchen for the glass of water we forgot, the door we needed to lock, or the dishwasher that needs to start humming, we don’t switch on the lights. We use our phones as flashlights and scurry through the darkness, hoping to avoid waking any sleeping children by sending shards of bright light shining underneath their doorways.

The other night on the way back to the bedroom from a flashlight adventure, I glanced out a window pane of the backdoor and just caught the faintest glimpse of a star in the sky. I brought my face close to the window pane, furrowed my brow and stared up to see what I might see, but I struggled to see anything.

Finally I realized the light from my flashlight was too bright. Once I’d fumbled to switch it off, the stars were aglow in the sky. I smiled up, not at just one, but the dozens that I could see with my face close to the window pane, just in that small space where the tall North Carolina trees weren’t blocking the sky from my view.

I marveled for a moment that I had to turn out the wrong light in order to see the right one. My heart whispered thankful to the Lord. He helps us see the light.



Before the hubs and I head on a photography adventure, we often pray, among many things, one specific thing: “Lord, help us see the light.” When you learn to see the light, when you learn to recognize what it does when it streams in through a window, or spills across a subject’s face, or rim lights them all around from behind, or creates gorgeous rays of sun flare that light up an image so glorious — when you learn to see that light, you are able to create so much beauty, and the possibilities are limitless.

Lord, help us see the light.

We’re entering a season with so many lights. Bright glaring ones begging our attention to this sale or that event or this is how they are doing it, shouldn’t we, too?

But the focus of the wise men on a single star brought them on the journey where they found the manger.

Meanwhile, the host of heaven must have lit up the sky when they sang to the shepherds that night in the field. How did all of Bethlehem not see it? Do we sometimes miss it?

There are so many lights this season, it’s true, but there’s just one light we really need to see.

We pray to the see the light because of how it helps us to see everything else. Even helps our cameras to see everything else.

The reason we need to see the right Light is that by that Light we can properly see everything else.

The advent season has begun, and here we simultaneously celebrate the Light of the World’s first coming, and we await His return.

In the deepest places of your soul, this is the perfect time to quiet down, to look, and to listen. Look for the Light this season. See God revealing Himself in a thousand small ways each day. Don’t stop giving thanks because the calendar no longer says November. Remember He holds you together and gives every breath.

Listen for the God-whisper: this is the greatest love story ever told. He has come, shined a light so bright a world of darkness couldn’t crush it. And — we are not without hope, the small word with big meaning behind the lighting of the first advent candle — we are not without hope, friends.

He is God with us, the God who dwells in us, and the God who will come again.

Keep looking, and you’ll see the Light.



I’m looking forward to reflecting and savouring this Advent season with you. I’d love to humbly invite you to subscribe via email and to ‘like’ this little space to follow along. Oh Come, Let Us Adore Him, together.

The Search for Meaningful Tradition (A Book Review and An Elf Alternative)

The Search for Meaningful Tradition (A Book Review and An Elf Alternative)

Each year, with more little eyes and more little ears and more little feet padding their way around our nest, I’ve been hungry to find traditions that would celebrate this most wonderful time of the year with reverence and sincerity. The commercialism seems to get bolder. The advertising seems to get better. And a few weeks ago, my eldest asked if he could start working on his wish list with some help from Amazon.

How do we glorify the Presence and de-emphasize the presents?

We’ll hang lights and remember the Light coming into our dark world.

An evergreen tree will go up, and we’ll remember the One who died on a tree, and how that tree gives us everlasting life.

I’m hungry to communicate the greatness of this incredible Presence — the arrival of the Messiah. This changes everything.  This is why we want to lead lives that honor God. This is why we want to show kindness to the least of these.

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A few years ago, I tried creatively placing the little elf around the house. It just wasn’t a good fit. I watched last year as folks decorated with powdered sugar footprints, came up with creative stunts, and competed to post the best imagery of elf shenanigans on social media. For us, it continued to emphasize the presents. Be good for the presents. The elf is watching. I just couldn’t put so much effort into something that is pointing away from the place I am trying to direct these little hearts’ attention.

Could there be a bright alternative?

Could we aim to forget the stacks of presents? Because this Presence — it’s the Greatest Gift of all time!

This year, in the days leading up to Christmas, we’re starting a new tradition. One that draws a line from Creation to the Cross, and sheds new light on the meaning of the manger.

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Unwrapping the Greatest Gift, by Ann Voskamp, is a Family Celebration of Christmas. Starting December 1st, there is a lesson each day, right up to the 25th. You’re invited to create your own Jesse Tree — a tree you’ve made, perhaps from branches in your backyard — where you can hang ornaments that relate to each of the daily devotions you’ll read as a family. The activities related to each lesson involve things like praying about ways your family can give and serve others over the holidays (and all year long) or making a list of things you’re grateful for.

I’m envisioning creating these opportunities for meaningful connection with our kids at Christmas.

For it all to point to the one thing I want my children to know in this season: Jesus is the Greatest Gift.

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I’m very excited to do this together, as a family, this holiday season. The book is beautifully illustrated, and each lesson includes thoughts to discuss and family activities — all written to point to the significance of the coming of the Messiah, all encouraging us to anticipate and celebrate the arrival of Christ.

In addition to Unwrapping the Greatest Gift, last year Voskamp’s book, The Greatest Gift, was released. This devotional is about “Unwrapping the Full Love Story of Christmas” and was written with adults in mind. It was named the Christian Retailer’s Devotional of the Year for 2014 and is absolutely worth considering in addition to the family celebration, or on its own. (They do cover the same themes and correlate to one another, but they are definitely not the same book.) The devotion draws you in to deeply considering the meaning of the lineage of Christ, and the love story of His coming.

{Voskamp has been one of my most favorite writers for quite some time and you might enjoy her website (very much) — aholyexperience.com. She is also the author of One Thousand Gifts, which is a life-changingly awesome NY Times Bestseller that would make a great gift and I hope you will read it if you haven’t already. It. Is. So. Good.}

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So friends, consider this an invitation from me to you to consider welcoming some new traditions into your Advent Season. I’m excited about finding something to help our family truly celebrate the Savior this season and I’m excited to share it with you.

I’ll continue to write and reflect on the glorious goodness of the Savior throughout the season, but I wanted to tell you now, because there’s still time to grab a copy of one or both of these wonderful books, and allow them to bring your family into some meaningful conversation about the Presence, that might draw focus away from the presents! Don’t worry if you don’t jump in on December 1st!

And? I’d love to hear from you! Have any questions for me? Are you hungry to put more meaning into your celebrations this season? What is your family doing to point to the Christ in Christmas?



Just so’s ya knows — This post was not sponsored by Ann Voskamp or Tyndale Publishers. I bought both books and was excited to share them with you in case you’d like to create some new traditions with your family this season. The links to Amazon are affiliate links. You might also find the books priced well at christianbook.com — we just found it cheaper with free shipping at Amazon. 🙂