What Child is This?

All week Phil and I have been singing Christmas hymns to Eloïse before we put her to bed at night. With Advent just around the corner, I can think of nothing more wonderful than having this season of relative stillness to help me meditate on the profound impact of Jesus' birth. Who but parents of young children spends 15 - 30 minutes every night rocking their little one to the sound of  hymns about the coming King? When I look down at our peacefully sleeping baby, I can hardly believe that Jesus was also a baby so small. Tomorrow our church is hosting a Ladies' Tea where we will spend some time celebrating the coming of Christmas together and hearing from a few women about Peace.

Peace on Earth and good will to all.

Physically, Eloïse keeps me pretty busy with all of the feeding and changing, soothing and entertaining. Somehow a 50% increase in household population means double the laundry. Tidying the house or prepping a meal also takes twice as long with this needy little infant. I lose count of how many times I restore a lost pacifier or re-swaddle escaped arms. Sometimes I realize that all the grunts and wiggles mean that I need to put my own task list on hold to simply sit and hold my daughter. She squirms and cries to work out whatever is bothering her.

And yet, there is a lot of quiet in my house these days. Today, it is the quiet of steady rain outside my window. The heavens giving life to this desert town. And though I know that peace is not synonymous with quiet, sometimes I think it is easier to hear when all is calm. In the stillness, I can practice peace for the turbulence to come. Because just about as often, Eloïse teaches me peace the hard way.

I need peace in the middle of the night when she won't fall back asleep, though I desperately want to. I need peace in the moments of panic when she's just a little too quiet and I run to check if she is still breathing. I need peace when she fusses and fights even though the food I know she wants is right there in front of her. In times like this, the only way for me to respond calmly to her panic is to draw upon the peace that God promises. Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

Brian reminded us on Sunday that the blessing of Christmas is more than a miracle baby born on hard times in a musty manger. It is the fulfillment of a great promise that God made to Adam and Eve after the fall—that one day He would restore peace between Himself and mankind. Jesus' birth is the beginning of the climax to God's story, when the relationship that was broken in the garden is restored on the cross.

So each night, when I sing this grand narrative to my baby, I cherish it in my own heart as well. Peace, peace, peace on Earth...