Away in a Manger. In July.

I have had the distinct privilege of enjoying more than thirty years with the same man.  Our children are married with children of their own (almost…our second grandchild is coming soon!).  We have had a good marriage.  Chas and I have enjoyed our years together.  He is a great dad and a fully-committed husband who is probably my biggest fan.  He has been “for” me over all of these years and has contributed to my effective ministry in ways that I cannot begin to define.  He is steady and faithful and funny.  He has been a formative influence on both of our children, on my own brothers, and on many other young men who have worked with him over the years.  I am forever grateful for the gift of our life together.

But our story, like most I suppose, is not without its disappointment.

Several days before Christmas, our little family gathered around the advent wreath to hear from God’s word and light the candle.  My then two-year old, Hannah, while enamored by the ritual, had no idea of its significance.  She stood on a chair between her daddy and me, with her arms around us for both balance and affection.  My husband read the little devotion for the night, and then read the Scripture.  Following the instructions, Chas encouraged us to sing “Away in a Manger” together.  Hannah loved to sing, so we launched into the first verse.

                “Away in a manager, no crib for a bed.  The little Lord Jesus, lay down his sweet head….”

                Now maybe this doesn’t happen to you, and I’m certain it reveals my own immaturity, but sometimes, when I feel awkward, my instinctive reaction is to laugh.  You can see where this is going.  For some reason, our little family standing there singing “Away in a Manger” in the quiet of our living room made me feel awkward.  And I laughed.  Ugh.

                My sweet husband, with no hint of the irritation that I’m sure he felt, responded:  “Well, that’s the last time I will do that.”

                And it was.  Chas never led devotions for our family again.

                As I reflect on that evening, I realize that my reaction to that scene was really just a nervous response.  However, even if unintentionally, in that moment I robbed my husband of his rightful place as the leader of our home.  My presumed disdain (it wasn’t actually disdain…but that’s how he felt) stole his confidence and the respect that he deserved.  And that moment informed what was to be the next 25+ years of our marriage.

                While not exactly an earth-shattering scenario, my response to that scene has characterized much of my life as a wife and mother...and that makes me incredibly sad.  Over the years, I became increasingly independent.  I had my own friends and pursued my personal agenda, rarely consulting my husband except on details that might impact his schedule.  I excluded Chas from the spiritual nurture of our children.  I never asked his opinion about spiritual matters nor did I encourage him in his faith journey.

I’m not exactly sure how this happened.  It’s not as if I set out to take over, to “lead” our family in any way, to be self-sufficient.  It just seemed to work.  Serving in children's ministry, I had training.  Chas did not.  I read all the child-rearing, marriage books.  (Apparently not the right books.) Chas did not. I was the family expert.  The marriage expert.  The spiritual expert.  And he was busy.  So I just sort of took over.  And it worked.  After a fashion, and for a while.

                You already know that our family is flourishing; our marriage is intact.  So this story has a happy ending.  By His marvelous grace, God has gradually and faithfully revealed the effect of my failure that December evening and the intervening years.  Our children are grown now, and interestingly, it has largely been their journey that has informed my faith in this arena.  Their honest questions as they navigate their own relationships, together with the convicting presence of the Holy Spirit, have peeled away layers of my self-promoting and self-preserving womanhood.  What I found, to my dismay, was a desperately wicked heart in need of transformation.  I had an uninformed perspective of feminine godliness and, perhaps more importantly, a basic disconnect between my thinking faith and my practical life.

                My ignorance was not due to lack of training.  My mother raised six children in a home characterized by her own walk with God and her love for my dad.  She was not Mother Teresa, and her marriage to my father was not perfect.  But my mom loved Jesus and her life was a visible demonstration of her commitment to Christ, to the church and to her family.  Mom’s example of godliness was not lost on me; her life was rooted in a strong foundation of Scripture and her confidence in God’s person and work was evident in every season of her life.  When my father went to be with the Lord at the age of 64, my mother’s faith sustained her and helped her to go on to a full and effective life. However, even in the shadow of my mother’s godliness, I did not have much knowledge about what it means to be a godly woman.  While I watched my mother closely over the years, and aspired to be like her in many ways, her godly womanhood somehow missed me completely. 

During different seasons of my life, I have studied passages about godly womanhood:  Proverbs 31, Ephesians 5, 1 Peter 3, 1 Timothy 2 (not my favorite).  If asked, I would have affirmed godly womanhood as a “good goal” for sanctification.  I would have offered a list, or a profile, of what a godly woman should be.  The profile would include (but not be limited to) the following:

Submissive

Respectful

Quiet

Gentle

Some lesser qualities might include serving, hospitable, not-distracted-by-outward-appearance, and not given to gossip.  Even as I read that list now, I smile on the inside because I know that person is so not me.  Who was I kidding?

What I did not know is that these texts, considered without the context of the whole counsel of Scripture and adjunct to my relationship to Christ, led me to isolated applications that were oriented to fixing my “behavior” rather than transforming my heart and mind.  Should I be submissive, respectful, quiet, and gentle?  Clearly.  But 1) I did not realize that my list fell woefully short of God’s plan for womanhood and 2) I did not understand that my strategies to become that woman routinely failed after only a few days (or hours) because they were not connected to my faith.

My uninformed perspective of feminine godliness needed a good dose of Biblical reality laced heavily with grace.  God’s design for gender is much bigger, much more significant, much richer and deeper than a list of things for me to do.  His vision for what it means to be a woman who is His disciple and friend is not just about changing my behavior.  It is about Jesus -- the One who came as a baby in a manger --- changing me.

                More to come on this topic.  Stay tuned…