Untimely Joy

Growing up, I was rarely shocked when strangers showed up on our doorstep for a holiday meal. I’ve always been under the impression other families treat Thanksgiving and Christmas as a family get together. Ours did, too, but it wasn’t uncommon for the empty seat or two, especially at our Thanksgiving table, to be filled with people I’d never met before. My siblings and I made it clear that wasn’t our favorite tradition, but Mom would just smile and say something to the tune of, “We can share—we have enough.”

Whether it was the guy who was often seen panhandling at the corner by the grocery store, or just a person Mom met while on a walk, extensive questions weren’t asked, and they got fed. Always polite, though sometimes begrudgingly so, our new guests’ eyes filled with wonder when we grabbed their hands and started praying before the meal. They went from being a stranger with an unheard story to just one of the family because a gal decided in her heart no one needed to be alone for a family holiday.

I distinctly remember one of our quieter guests as he took in the home, the chance for more ham, and the quirkiness of our family. He declined staying any longer than needed, but before he left he mumbled, “Don’t ever forget the beauty of what you have here—even when it’s not a holiday.”

For the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas that year, I thought often of his quiet reminder. It’s so easy to simply wait for the next big thing to fill our time and restore our joy. Yet as believers in Jesus we don’t have to wait till the next holiday or flashy occasion to live in joy. Christ is our joy. The only question is, can other people see Him in us?