It’s a new year. 2025 has begun. I thought of writing about New Year resolutions, and I probably will, in the next few blogs. But right now, I’m crying and praying the title of this blog – God, be merciful to me, a sinner!
It’s been an emotional Christmas, perhaps more so this year. First there was all the build-up. So much to do – planning, cleaning, preparing, working out who was available, and when, for the various events. There are presents to buy and wrap. Then getting ready for visitors who will be sleeping over; organising the menu and doing the shopping; making the beds and making space in each room. I put up the Christmas tree, of course, but the other usual decorations were pared back, as we plan to begin a long caravan trip in a few days.
Some of the events meant we had to travel away from home for a few days, so we had to pack lots of stuff. We really do envy those who can easily celebrate with their families because they all live close. How nice it would be to be able to meet regularly and develop a closer relationship. How nice to be able to sleep in one’s own bed too.
At big events, it’s lovely to hear people thank each other and say they had a good time. But it’s also noticeable when some people don’t make any comment, nor do they offer to help while some of us are busy serving them all day. It can be easy to feel resentful of all the effort I’ve put in to cater to individual appetites, preferences and desires and then clean up after everybody.
When people get together, there are some who will express their opinions strongly, and seem to belittle differing views, if they listen to them at all. In such situations, it’s very easy for me to feel offended and hurt. If I feel that my opinions are not respected by someone, my feelings towards that person deteriorate. When I’m with people, it hurts to feel that they aren’t really interested in my thoughts about anything. This isn’t a big problem with most people, where the relationship is only shallow. But when I think that I don’t have many deep friendships with people who really care about me, it hurts. When those people are family, and I expect and hope to have wonderful, close, loving relationships with them, the pain is magnified.
Christmas in Australia is in mid-summer. When everyone is hot and tired, tempers get frayed, and egos can be fragile. In the business of hospitality, it can be easy to think of all the things that need to be done when the visitors leave, or when we can get back home to our own chores. But then, if I’m focused on future tasks, I don’t get to enjoy the time we do have together. And then I feel guilty about that!
Some of our visitors have now left, and the house is much emptier. And I’m sad about that – knowing that we won’t see them for a long time, and that we probably won’t have them all together again for another year. I wonder whether we will have my elderly mother with us next year. I wonder about all the conversations that we could/should have had about various things. I also feel that I’m running around in circles, trying to prioritise what I should be doing so that we can get away on our trip. Should I even be writing this blog?! Actually, I’m a bit of a mess.
This morning, I read the April 30 devotion in Paul David Tripp’s New Morning Mercies. https://store.paultripp.com/pages/new-morning-mercies (Yes, I know I’m not on today’s date). Tripp writes, “Prayer is abandoning hope of independent capability and believing that in Christ you’re given everything you need for life and godliness…Every instance of prayer is a confession in which I own my condition and embrace my need. Prayer that doesn’t do this may be a religious recitation of some sort, but it ceases to be prayer. In prayer, I confess once again that I won’t ever be what I’m supposed to be and do what I am supposed to do, without the forgiving, empowering, and delivering grace of the One to whom I am praying. Prayer decimates my independent self-surety; it puts my utter dependency before my eyes and calls me to cry out for the help that I am so often tempted to deny I need.”
Tripp refers to the prayers of the Pharisee and the tax collector in Luke 18:9-14. This is the answer I need right now. I’m a mess. I can’t fix myself. I need God to do that – please!
God be merciful to me, a sinner, Luke 18:13b (NJKV)
WHAT ABOUT YOU?
How would you describe your Christmas?
How would you describe your relationships with family and friends?
What do you think of the prayers of the Pharisee and the tax collector?