(The Twelve Ways of Christmas, Part 6: The Way of Reflection)
“Livie, why did you teach Lit?” Katie asked her grandmother, eyes rolling with attitude.
“Because I wanted to teach high school kids, and they made me pick a subject,” the bright-eyed woman said with confidence. “Anyway, they already had a football coach.”
Olivia Driver opened the door to her guest room, parted the curtains, and opened the blinds to let the morning sunlight in. Though it was early, her straight, silver hair looked beautifully radiant, as always. Her trim frame and purposeful pace revealed an energy that defied her 78 years. Olivia was on a mission. Today she had planned (she always had a plan) to get the boxes and paper from the closet and start wrapping gifts. This would be a Christmas to remember. All her children and grandchildren would be there, along with those three adorable great-grands.
And this would be Olivia Driver’s last Christmas at her home of 34 years.
January would bring changes, and it was all Olivia’s doing. Four years after her husband’s death, she had decided to sell the house and move to a nearby retirement/assisted care community. She had already completed a thorough inventory, planned an estate sale, tagged the furniture and other items she would move with her, and scheduled the move-in. Only one keep-or-toss decision remained for this retired Literature teacher. And in the streaming sunlight, it caught her eye.
There at the foot of the bed was a large cedar chest, covered by a beautifully-crocheted afghan. Throughout her grandchildren’s younger years, Livie (that’s what they called her) had invited them to explore the Chest of Wonder. Inside were old pictures, old clothes for dress-up, momentos of baby and children’s items from when their parents were young, old-timey toys that didn’t use batteries or power cords, and lots of blank cards and paper for the children to write things down. Every item had a story behind it; some were even true! Every blank page was a new story in waiting.
Near the bottom, Livie kept a locked box for herself. There she kept cherished photos, a journal that dated back to the birth of her oldest child, a few newspaper clippings, and a bundled collection of notes and letters from 41 years of teaching.
Still taped to the inside of the lid was a Crayola-decorated sign Katie had crafted somewhere around her ninth birthday. It read, “Treasures of the Heart, Questions of the Mind, Wonders of the Soul.” That, Livie had said repeatedly, was what the Chest of Wonder was all about.
Livie’s Inspiration
Olivia had long admired Luke’s descriptions of Mary, the mother of Jesus. Maybe it was because she could relate. Maybe it was because she so believed in the Way of Reflection. Like Olivia, Mary spent a lot of time reflecting on the meaning of all that had happened and would happen to her. It was Mary’s influence, and the discovery of the chest at an antique store, that prompted Olivia to create this adventure-in-a-box.
But now those grandchildren were all grown, and the only visitor to the Chest of Wonder was Olivia Driver. And in her mission-oriented, no-nonsense mood, she had decided the venerable old box would not make the trip. She would still have the treasures, the questions, and the wonder. But the chest had seen its better days.
Treasures of the Heart
The Way of Reflection mines the memories stored in the heart – that place that goes beyond facts, figures, or data. Luke tells us that’s exactly what Mary did. She “treasured all these things, and pondered them in her heart” (Luke 2:19).
Wonder how Luke knew that? Most likely Mary herself gave him that information. In other words, she remembered years later what she had stored in her heart around the events of Jesus’ birth. She was intentional about it then, so she could remember whenever.
Ask anyone who’s had a few birthdays, and they will tell you that treasures of the heart tend to change over time. The memories change hues and shades to fit a new need for understanding. It’s not that the facts themselves change. The memories just take on new meaning, and that’s important.
Sometimes it’s important to remember how terrified you were. Or how ecstatically happy. Or how horribly ashamed. Or numb, hopeful, disappointed, smitten with love, or overwhelmed with gratitude. Those memories serve as anchors for comparison. Boundaries for conduct. Signals for compassion. And generators of wisdom and understanding.
Maybe it’s time to take a trip back to your treasure room. Christmas often reminds us to do that. Maybe it’s time to rebuild or restore it. Do something with those photos. Re-read those journals. Finally make that encouragement file. Your heart will thank you for it.
Questions of the Mind
Mary did more than store memories. She also asked questions – apparently lots of them. You see this in her surprise encounter with Gabriel.
But she was very perplexed at this statement, and kept pondering what kind of salutation this was (Luke 1:29).
Ponder. I like that word. And Mary liked doing it. Pondering means asking what something means. Giving yourself permission to have no clue what the answers are, but enjoying the process of discovery. Recognizing your place in a much larger drama, with multiple players, a Grand Designer, and delicious – even dangerous – mystery.
Mary’s questions were internal. She analyzed. Quizzed. And, get this – wasn’t afraid to put away her questions without a ready-made answer. That’s a far cry from people who, if they can’t get the 30-second sound bite or the 50-cent bottom line, just ignore the questions altogether.
The Way of Reflection recognizes that some questions take a lifetime to answer, but they’re still worth asking. And the answer is still worth pursuing.
Some questions take an eternity to satisfy. And the God who alone has the answer is so worth pursuing. And as Job learned, pursuing Him is more vital than having neatly-packaged answers. I think Mary understood that, too. How about you? Dare you ask or consider a question you know you may never have answered to your satisfaction?
Wonders of the Soul
Mary departed the seen-and-understood toward a future teeming with uncertainty and promise. But the uncertainties were no match for her trust in the One making the promise.
And His father and mother were amazed at the things which were being said about Him. And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary His mother, “Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed — and a sword will pierce even your own soul — to the end that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:33-35).
Dear God, what a harrowing, holy adventure she was embarking on! What a breathtaking thrill, yet a soul-piercing destiny. Why did Simeon say this just to Mary? Where did Joseph fit into the plan? Would he fit into the plan? How many more birthdays would Jesus or Joseph or even Mary experience? And how would this plan reveal the thoughts of many hearts?
Throughout the Way of Reflection, Mary had more questions than answers. But in the imaginations of her mind, the transparency of her heart, and the abandoned agreement of her will, Mary said yes to wonder. She took on her future with a sense of awe and adventure. She refused to dismiss the unprecedented or unusual. She embraced the God of the new thing. And Mary asked questions. Lots and lots of questions. Of herself. Most of all, of God.
Olivia always taught her students that the sign of an intelligent reader is not their ability to answer questions, but their ability to ask them. She actually taught them, with fierce determination, to wonder. Her senior mid-term exam always had her advanced classes read To Kill a Mockingbird and generate ten intelligent questions based on the book. Class discussions were then shaped around the best of those questions. But the grades were actually based on the questions submitted.
Then came the Wonder Project in the spring. The assignment seemed simple enough: make a list of 100 things you wonder about, or would like to ask Somebody smarter than you someday. Students groaned. Whined. Then thought. Then wrote. Then thought some more. It was by far the most hated and loved assignment in the entire high school. And Livie’s Chest of Wonder contained the evidence – note after note of appreciation. Some came from students upon graduation. Others came from former students, hoping Mrs. Driver would teach long enough for their children to learn to wonder.
The Way of Reflection assumes that not knowing the future creates more life-value than being able to predict it. And how better to start than in dreaming of a day you can ask the Lord anything – anything – and get an answer? What would you ask?
+++++++++++++
Closing the lid, an hour now gone, Olivia replaces the afghan, still holding one of the blank cards from inside. And there atop the Chest of Wonder, she leaves a one-word note for whomever:
“Keep.”
