Today was an exquisite sacrament meeting. The music was extraordinary. I can't believe the beautiful talent of so many individuals in our ward. I was asked to speak on the significance of Christ's birth. My mind immediately went to Nephi 11, which talks about the condescension of God, and the video Share the Gift, on LDS.org. I found the best talk by Bishop Edgley that spoke on the subject.
I unfortunately read the majority of my short message today. I wish I had the dynamic speaking power to elaborate my feelings without reading as well as share meaningful stories from my own life, but I don't seem to have the insight and talent to do that yet. I wanted to include a portion of my talk, just for record's sake. It's something I hope to remember not just during Christmas, but all the year.
"As the angel taught Nephi, he may
have been speaking of two condescensions—one of God the Father and one of the Son, Jesus Christ.
Elder Bruce R. McConkie (1915–85) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles
elaborates, “‘The condescension of God,’ of which the scriptures speak, means
that the Immortal Father—the glorified, exalted, enthroned ruler of the
universe—came down from his station of dominion and power to become the Father
of a Son who would be born of Mary, ‘after the manner of the flesh.’”God the Father also condescended by sending His
Only Begotten Son to suffer the sins of the world. The Savior is God’s gift to
us.
While God the Father’s condescension
reflects His great love for all mankind by permitting His Only Begotten to be
sacrificed for even the humblest and lowliest of His children, Christ’s
condescension was more personal and visible—for He was the sacrifice. His
condescension was manifest by who He was and the way He lived. His
condescension can be seen in almost every recorded act of His 33 years of
mortality.”
Bishop Edgley goes on to explain that in His
life:
"Jesus Christ descended to be born of
mortal woman, even though He was glorified and exalted.
·He descended to be baptized of man,
even though He was perfect and sinless.
·He descended to minister to the
humblest of the humble, even though He was exalted.
·He descended to subject Himself to
the will of the Father, suffering Himself to be tempted, mocked, scourged, cast
out, and disowned, even though He was all-powerful.
·He descended to be judged of the
world, even though He was the Judge of the world.
·He descended to be lifted on the
cross and slain for the sins of the world, even though no man could take away
His life.
The magnitude of God’s work is
incomprehensible. It is infinite. From His magnificent throne, Jesus Christ,
the God of this world, all-knowledgeable and all-powerful, descended. Indeed,
it is sobering to ponder that He alone would come down from this glorified
throne to face the most extreme humiliation and suffering that mortality could
inflict.”
I read once of a woman experiencing a grueling
battle she called a thorn in her flesh. We all have thorns—nagging, sometimes
agonizing reminders of our fallen state. They could be depression, anxiety, or
mental illness. Sins and temptations we can’t seem to shake. Addictions.
Difficult childhoods. Physical impairments or ailments.
For her it was an obsessive compulsive disorder she
found so overpowering.
Then one Christmas the Lord gave her an insight that
brought her some peace.
He reminded her of Nephi’s vision of the Tree of Life
and the angels’s explanation of God’s condescension. She realized that the love
of God isn’t best manifest in His might and glory and creation and dominion –
though it is expressed there, too, of course – but in His humility, His
empathy, His willingness to, what she called, “get down in the dirt with me, from a place infinitely higher to my lower and
lesser place.”
After
discovering this, she recorded some of her thoughts and feelings. This is
a portion of what she wrote…
For all the lights and tinsel, for all the
sparkling packages and clanking bells, for all the Hallelujah choruses, the
decadent food, the elaborate parties, the ugly sweaters with sequins and
snowmen and swirls — we are honoring the birth of a God who, ultimately, came
to suffer; and in His sufferings, triumph.
That is not to say the triumph
doesn’t deserve the joy and gaiety we lavish upon it; merely that this year I
need to focus on the humility of His beginning and the depth of His
condescension — so lowly, so meek, that He came to meet me whereIam.
O Come, all ye faithful. O Come, all ye
doubtful. Come, all ye sorrowful and shameful and prideful and sinful.
Come lay your burdens at His feet. Come take
part of the condescension of Christ. You are never so low, but that He
has gone lower. You are never so lost but that He will seek you out.
As we embrace this beautiful gift, even the gift of the Savior of all the world, let us learn of
Him, testify of Him, and emulate Him in mercy, in compassion, in humility, in obedience,
in service, in sacrifice and in love.
I also shared the words to this video at the beginning of my talk. It's so beautiful and tied in perfectly with Bishops Edgley's words.
The first gift
Was not wrapped
Had no bow
Wasn’t purchased online
Or in a store
The first gift of Christmas
Was a simple gift
A sacred trust
It wasn’t gold
Or frankincense
Or myrrh
It was a gift of love
And life
And peace
And hope
Given by a Father
To all his children
“for God so loved the world”
And so loved you
And you
And you
And every single one of us
He gave his Son
He is the Christ
He is Christmas
He is the gift
This Christmas season
Discover the gift
Embrace the gift
For God so loved the world that he gave his only
Begotten Son that in him all should not perish, but have everlasting life.
I
finished writing my short talk this morning while Aaron took the kids out to
Marcus’ basketball game. I worked on the calendar for a bit until our ward
Christmas dinner. It was a nice dinner, not super filling, like most ward parties, but such a welcomed break from cooking at home. A lot of the families were already out
of town which made it feel a tad empty, however the kids sang so sweetly during the program and there was a good feeling there. The kids all asked Santa for candy this year, that should be pretty easy.
Some of my favorite memories from my youth are of seminary
breakfasts in our home. When we were called to teach seminary I envisioned this
same tradition playing out, perhaps once a month even. With Aaron’s seminary
callings in the past we did a few breakfasts, but our kids were so little that
it wasn't really an option to hold them often. Seminary breakfasts are such a
great way to really unite your class and strengthen all the teens. However, when
we asked for permission we were advised not to hold them regularly, maybe once
or twice during the year.
With that instruction in mind, today felt like the perfect
opportunity. We prepped the students all week, and I was sure that we would
have 100% attendance. So sure, that I bet Aaron a back rub if they did. I guess
the call of their beds was too strong this morning for a few of our students, and five ended up not coming. I owe Aaron a back rub!
We watched and discussed the LDS video Share the Gift, which
is so beautiful. Then we had the students
write what they could share with Him and others this Christmas. We also gave the kids a type
of report card with make-up work listed for this year and previous years. That
was a big project, but hopefully helpful for the parents and students.
After seminary I breathed a sigh of relief. I was tired. I
got a call late last night to speak on Sunday, someone had dropped out last
minute. I still need to write that, finish our
Nadauld family calendar, buy a few more presents, and complete the laundry so we can pack. But the list is slowly dwindling. And it feels good.
It’s so easy to get all wrapped up in the hustle and bustle
of it all, and lose the reason for the season. I’m grateful for a good husband
who helps pick up the slack around me, with the kids especially. My mom also showered
me with help this week. Today she made the casseroles and cut the fruit for our seminary breakfast. She and
my dad also watched the kids during seminary. What angels!! And Christine took the kids after school and the girls this evening to an open gym night while Aaron took the boys to a basketball game so I could have some time to work at home. I think this is the
perfect example of how Christ often eases our burdens--through others. I’m
grateful for the gifts they share with me.
Last night Aaron received a call from the Broesders that a cougar had been caught in their yard. The catch and release people had helped them set a trap after it had killed and eaten most of Chelsea's prized llama. Cougars usually return a second day to finish eating their catch. Aaron ran over with a couple of friends to see the caught cougar. Aaron's been watching the nature channel lately, and so this was an opportunity to see the wild in real life. He said he was amazed at how strong and large it was. I was amazed that there is a cougar up the street from us. I don't know why, perhaps it's my city/suburban upbringing, but a cougar in your backyard is absolutely absurd to me.
We also had the mission president and his wife come eat lunch at our home today after attending a temple session with the missionaries that are returning home next week. It was nice meeting them and my mom prepared a delicious and beautiful meal (of course). Then I used her left overs to feed the sisters who we had signed up to feed tonight as well. There is nothing quite as wonderful as filling your home with amazing, humble, and dedicated missionaries, where the Spirit is so strong and present.
I got these all prepped today to deliver tomorrow among a bunch of other to-do's (They're full of Lindor chocolates and a little gift card to a restaurant. Christmas is getting close now. I can hardly wait until we head for Utah and my mile-long list turns into one short task "play and have fun".
We drove down Cherry Lane for family home evening to see the Christmas lights dance to the radio. Then we got some warm hot chocolate and snuggled up together before bed. They weren't too excited about me trying to take a picture.