“I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d like to come up for Christmas?”
I blurt out the question mid-conversation. “I mean, it will be really hot, and there is always the chance of a cyclone this time of year. A small chance, I think. But still. Anyway. I’m pet-sitting this cat. And there are always lots of festivals and things. I’m sure there will be plenty for us to do. It’s just . . . well . . . I don’t really want to be alone. I mean, I know I won’t be alone. And I’m sure people will invite me to things because everyone here is so lovely. But . . . well . . . anyway. . . it could be fun.”
My words are coming faster and faster, tumbling out of my mouth before I can catch up. “But, I mean . . . maybe you want to spend Christmas with your family. That’s fine. I mean, that’s ok. I mean, that’s good. I understand that. Family is important. You should stay. You should stay and have Christmas with your family. And then maybe you could come for New Year’s? Or some other time. Anytime really. You’re welcome to come and visit. Just let me know when you book tickets. So . . . yeah . . . just whenever.” I’m not sure what just happened, but I am flustered and awkward, wishing I could gather up all the words and throw them away like a discarded piece of paper. A do-over would be great.
The friend on the other side of the video call hesitates. “Oh,” she says. “Thank you . . . Um . . . Let me have a think and I’ll get back to you.”
I nod miserably, she graciously changes the subject, and the conversation drifts off in other directions.
Later, when the call had ended and I was busy with the tasks of the day, I wondered what it was that made me so uncomfortable. What was it about extending the invitation that left me so flustered?
I’m not outside of my passport country, but I recently moved to a new part of it for a cross-cultural, worker-care role. The climate and weather patterns are new to me. The plants and wildlife are a vibrant array of bright colors and hidden dangers. The large First Nations population and proximity to Papua New Guinea and neighboring nations, combined with the ever-present flow of tourists and backpackers, means that simple tasks often become a kaleidoscope of new experiences and unexpected interactions.
I navigate this new place, brimming with all the beauty and complexity of life, with unsteady feet. I’m not quite at home. I’m still finding the path. I know that this is where God has placed me and I have confidence in him. But I’m not quite at ease. I long for familiar paths, familiar faces, and familiar ways of doing things. I long for roots, for the comfort of long-held traditions and rhythms of life. As I think about my first Christmas in this new place, I don’t want to do it alone. I long for home.
When I reflected on the conversation, I realized that this might be it. My desire for a friend with me over Christmas is an echo of a deeper heartache now magnified in my unfamiliar surroundings: a longing for my true and everlasting home. And that longing slipped out in the admission of my need. Yet, isn’t this what Christmas is all about?
Since the Fall, every one of us has carried that deep, deep longing that nothing on this earth can satisfy. We ache for home and all its treasures of perfect love and belonging and, while we catch glimpses of it here, they only serve to stir our hearts to ache all the more. We are made for the fullness of life, not just glimpses of it. Isn’t it wonderful that our good God not only delivers us from sin and death but also satisfies our hearts’ longings? In this season, we rejoice in the newborn baby in a manger and we look ahead with eager anticipation to our true home where all the brokenness and need of this world and ourselves is bound up and met in him. It is well that we sing glad tidings of comfort and joy!
The next day, as I wandered through the markets, I got a text from my friend.
“Thank you for inviting me. I’d love to come for Christmas AND New Year’s!”
What do you find yourself longing for as we approach this Christmas season? What has been your experience of inviting people to visit your place of service?
Well said. Christmas can come with so many longings and the pull to want to be in multiple places as once. What a gift to have a friend who is able to join you especially when in that beautifully challenging season of transition. Have a merry Christmas.