Leaving Jesus in Heaven

My parents separated when I was fourteen years old. I’ll never forget how weird that first Christmas was, not being with both at the same time anymore.
 
I knew Christmas would never look the same, but I didn’t know that, for over a decade, that my mom wouldn’t be in that picture at all. When my mom remarried and moved away (my stepdad was military), Christmas lost its magic for me. I began to despise most Christmas music (which I formerly loved). Especially the ones that sang about being “home for Christmas” because to me, Mom was home.
 
I tried to keep as busy as possible to ignore the gaping hole in my heart nothing seemed to fill. In the quiet moments, I’d cry. Oh, how I’d cry. Especially after I had children of my own and longed for her to see the beautiful people they were becoming.
 
On Christmas, she’d text.
 
“Merry Christmas, sweetie!”
​
“Merry Christmas, mom. I miss you <3”
 
It half drove me crazy. But the other half knew my mom texted because she simply couldn’t hold it together long enough for a call. 
 
She came home twice that I remember in those years. Her presence brought me so much joy. The sound of her laugh. The sweet way she played with my babies. Her famous fudge that I never had the patience to learn to make for myself. But each happy season ended with her going away again.
 
Then, something magical happened.
After many, many years of hoping and waiting, my mom came home. This time, for good. We could hardly believe it—it just seemed too good to be true. But it wasn’t. It was real.

 
There’s just one problem.
A lot of times, I still leave her in California.
 
For someone who missed her mom so much, I certainly don’t spend as much time with her as I thought I would. And I don’t tell her I love her and how happy I am that she’s here as often as I should.
 
My mom lives five minutes away—I could walk to her house if I wanted. I could meet up with her in person pretty much any time I wanted. But I don’t. Somewhere in my mind, I forget she came home. I got so used to doing life on my own.
 
I leave my mom in California.
 
The other morning as I was driving home from dropping my children at school, one of those sappy songs came on the radio that reminded me of those many Christmases without my mom. My eyes welled up with tears—this time because I was so utterly and completely overwhelmed with gratitude.
 
Mom is here.
 
Here’s the thing I’ve come to realize: Just like I leave my mom in California sometimes, I leave Jesus in heaven, too.
 
The sad truth is, I forget Christmas.

I forget that the Son of God, Jesus, loved me so much that he humbled himself, putting on flesh and feelings to be close to me, to have relationship with me.
 
While in my mom’s presence, there is love, laughter, understanding, and, usually, lots of sugary sweets—in Jesus’ presence there is so much more.
 
Jesus’ birth brought light into the dark places of my life, and hope to the most hopeless situations I have and will ever face.
 
Jesus’ life, lived in my place, gave me perfection with God that I could not earn alone.
 
Jesus’ miracles proved that nothing is impossible if I believe in Him, by faith.
 
Jesus’ death gave me peace with God, when all God’s wrath for my sin fell on His son instead.
 
Jesus’ resurrection gave me victory over the enemy—I no longer have to live under the weight of sin, shame, and destruction.
 
And even when Jesus went back up to heaven, He left a part of Himself: the gift of the Holy Spirit, Who gives me power to walk not according to my own desires, but according to His.
 
 
You see, when I feel hopeless and anxious;
When situations feel impossible;
When I feel like God is mad at me;
And I’m covered in sin and shame;
When I feel like a victim to life’s circumstances and the enemy of my soul--
It is because I’ve left Jesus in heaven.
 
Christmas reminds me of this simple truth: Jesus came. And His presence changed everything.
 
Friend, I don’t know what you’re facing this Christmas, but you’re not facing it alone.
 
We can choose to live like He’s still in heaven, trying to do life on our own. Or we can stop and remember that He is here, and that in His presence is power, love, peace, joy, forgiveness—life.

We no longer have to bring sacrifices to get to God, the sacrifice has already been made. We no longer have to go through a priest to find out His will, He speaks to us through the power of His Holy Spirit. We are no longer orphans, we are dearly loved sons and daughters of God.

He is here. And He longs for us to be with Him.
 
May we pause and lean into that promise and whisper grateful prayers for the gift of Jesus this Christmas.
 
Emmanuel, God with us.
 
Merry Christmas With Love,
Katie G.