I’ve washed dishes in the bathtub twice. Once was on Christmas Eve. 

Out of town family was on their way, and my eight-foot counter was covered with mixing bowls, baking pans, and kitchen utensils. I’d cooked all day, and it was time to clean up. 

Except the sink wouldn’t drain.

While my husband tried to locate a plumber to tackle the clog, my pioneer woman instincts kicked in. I hauled my dirty dishes to the bathroom. On my hands and knees, I scoured the bathtub, then scrubbed the dishes. A blast from the shower head rinsed the soapy pile. 

Christmas wasn’t perfect that year. 

Another year, I awakened on Christmas morning with the worst case of vertigo I’ve ever had. If I moved my eyes too quickly, my head spun. If I moved my body too quickly, my stomach heaved. And the smell of our family’s traditional holiday feast? I sequestered myself in the other room to hide from it. 

Christmas wasn’t perfect that year either. 

Then there was the year I had to work on Christmas Eve. When I’d finally dismissed my last patient and said Merry Christmas to my coworkers, I jumped into my car, eager to begin the festivities.

Maybe a little too eager. 

As I headed home, I took a curve too quickly. A car, coming from the other direction, drove dangerously close to the center line. I jerked the steering wheel to the right, over corrected, and hit the curb—hard.

Please don’t be flat. Please don’t be flat. Hoping against hope, I peered around the front of the car to check my tire. 

Flat. 

Flat as my hair after a rainstorm. Flat as a frog on an interstate. Flat as my spirits when I realized I’d be getting a tire for Christmas instead of something much more fun. 

That Christmas wasn’t perfect, either. 

The longer I live, the more I realize perfect Christmases only appear in movies. No surprise, really, because real Christmases are never perfect.

Imperfect from the Start

Consider the first Christmas—that was one for the history books. 

Mary, who could have been as young as fourteen, was nine-months pregnant. Out-of-wedlock pregnant. 

Then came the census, which meant she and Joseph had to leave home and travel to Bethlehem. The journey would take four days if Mary rode a donkey, seven days if she walked. (When I was pregnant, I could barely walk to the mailbox, let alone seventy miles—with or without a donkey.)

Then, when Mary and Joseph finally arrived, they found no lodging. No Ramada Inn. No Motel Six. Not even a campground. 

And then her labor began. Maybe Joseph was able to find a midwife, maybe not. Either way, he was a key player in his wife’s delivery. Ponder that for a moment. 

She gave birth in a stable. Read that again. 

She gave birth in a stable.

And laid her newborn baby in a feeding trough. 

Not Over Yet

But it still wasn’t over. A motley band of shepherds arrived, babbling about lights, angels, and a heavenly message. 

“They won’t leave until they see the baby,” I imagine Joseph telling his bewildered wife. “They say they’ve looked in every manger in Bethlehem.” 

When I think about it, I realize how imperfect Mary’s Christmas was. But it didn’t matter, because Jesus was there.

Your Perfect Christmas

You may be hoping for a perfect Christmas this year. Or you may already know you have no chance of one. You’re struggling with ill health, strained finances, or a broken relationship. Maybe you’re facing your first holiday without a loved one, or battling depression, discouragement, or despair. 

Perhaps it’s time to change the channel on our Hallmark expectations of what Christmas is supposed to look like. Maybe Christmas doesn’t have to look “perfect” to be special.

This holiday season, let’s ask God to give us the grace to follow Mary’s example. Let’s treasure the events of Christmas and ponder them in our hearts. Let’s give thanks for the journey, the stable, and the manger. Let’s glorify and praise God for all we’ve seen and heard, spreading the word to everyone we meet. 

I’m hoping for a clogged-drain-vertigo-flat-tire-free Christmas this year. Maybe it will happen; maybe it won’t. Regardless, I know Christmas will still be special because Jesus will be there.

If this blog post by Lori has been a blessing to you, would you consider partnering with us to provide more resources like this to women desperately in need of finding freedom, fullness, and fruitfulness in Christ? Revive Partners are part of a team of faithful monthly contributors whose gifts make it possible for Revive Our Hearts to produce biblically rich content to help women be fruitful in every season of life. Discover the benefits of partnership by visiting ReviveOurHearts.com/partner.