Advent Hope in Our Mundane Moments

“While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.” Luke 2: 6-7

I am vacuuming up needles from our Christmas tree for the 32nd time today. At least, that’s what it feels like.

While I love this perfectly imperfect tree our family of four hiked through the snow to cut down, it certainly sheds a lot. If I’m not vacuuming up the needles, I’m trying to keep our cat from drinking the water or picking up the ornaments my children thought would make better toys. This beautiful symbol of the holidays takes a lot of work to maintain.

It also reminds me that in the midst of the holiday magic, my day-to-day life remains unremarkably mundane. Our daily schedule may contain more Christmas cookies and new music to listen to throughout the day, but the bones of my stay-at-home-mom life are still there - feed the kids, change diapers, do the dishes, clean up a mess, handle a meltdown, keep my baby from finding something on the floor that can harm him, keep my toddler from practicing her somersaults on our couch - rinse and repeat every day from now until forever.

Maybe you feel the same? Does your season of life feel unremarkable? Do you see other’s lives and envy the glamorous life they share with the world? Do you wonder if your work is worth it? I know I do.

There is another story that, at first glance, is incredibly mundane. A young girl is pregnant like so many others before her. She is dirty and dingy from traveling, the aches and pains of the third trimester heightened by the donkey she is riding. She gives birth against the backdrop of hay and more dirt. And a baby is born.

Anyone passing by that night would see this couple and think nothing of them. Maybe they see the young pregnant girl and conjure up a thousand judgements about age, marital status, and cleanliness. Someone might overhear the sounds of labor, or maybe even that goes unnoticed.

But this simple, every day moment was far from ordinary.

In that moment, the Savior of the world was born. The cries of that baby echoed through the depths of hell as God’s unbelievable rescue plan jumped into action. The heavens rejoiced as his plan unfolded. And yet, the world went by unaware that anything extraordinary had happened. 

It is easy to get wrapped up in the monotony of life. I get bogged down in days filled with blowouts, meltdowns and crumbs. I clean up messes that are instantly replaced by new ones, I offer the same words of discipline more times than I can count, and I do it all on insufficient sleep.

But the hope of the Christmas story is this - every mundane moment is an opportunity for worship.

Because Jesus came into this world and saved me from all that my sin rightfully deserved, I can worship him in any and all circumstances. When I restore my home to temporary order, I can remember how he restores my brokenness. As I discipline my children, I can give thanks for the patience and love with which he disciplines me. When I am weary and tired, I can give thanks that he is faithful to sustain me.

I love this quote from Elisabeth Elliot.

“Worship is not an experience. Worship is an act, and this takes discipline. We are to worship ‘in spirit and in truth.’ Never mind about the feelings. We are to worship in spite of them.” -Elisabeth Elliot

It is tempting to begrudge the mundaneness we walk through. But remember that God chose an incredibly mundane backdrop to reveal his glorious, wondrous, plan. He took an ordinary moment and made it glorious. He brought wonder and worship into a commonplace event. A standard, everyday moment rocked the world and few noticed.

So clean up those Christmas tree needles. Wrap that thousandth gift. Listen to the same holiday soundtrack that plays at work over and over and over again. Let these ordinary moments fuel your worship.