We have a saying in our home. I’m not entirely sure how or when it came to be, but I remember hearing Izzy reciting it to Abby one evening during dinner, and thinking “You’ve got it, kid! You can handle it from here. Love, Mom”.
Here’s the saying, “You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit”. Am I right?
I’ve been going through John Piper’s Advent book, The Dawning of Indestructible Joy. It’s short and rich in delectable truth, serving as a generous reminder that nothing can overtake the perfect joy found in God. Over the course of a few weeks between late October and mid-November, I had dinners and phone calls and couch hangs with a few girls who I had the privilege of living life alongside of through their middle and high school years. They are now adulting through college and roommates and waitressing and budgeting, and my mothering heart feels extremely proud and mostly anxious. Sometimes I like to think that God gave me a breath of what He had in store for me with my own three daughters by bringing me into community with these three lady loves. Anyway. Mushy mush. Back to the book. During these dinners and phone calls and couch hangs, it was apparent that we not only needed more joyful truth in our life, but we also needed more of each other. So we decided to Advent together. This book was chosen primarily because it has a convenient audio version, and secondly because it started on December 1. It’s day by day so there’s no wondering when, in the space-time continuum of this or that Advent, which day we are actually supposed to be on.
I sat by our tree a few mornings ago, and read through one of the 2 page chapters. In the context of this particular chapter, Piper narrows in on the divine love of God. Love that existed and moved and caused and humbled and saved. It is a love without need, for God is without need. Can you even comprehend a life without need? No money. No food. No Anthropologie. No Trader Joe’s or Target dollar bins. No coffee or sleep or sex. Not one single need. Yet the capacity to love in such a way that He desires to give. To give to us. To create a need, or many needs (raised hands here), in us, and fulfill us. Even recognizing that in the perfect formula of God’s character, I catch myself still identifying with Abby as she throws a fit over eating chicken after she was just screaming about how hungry she was. “Well, thanks God, for giving me this house, but if you could somehow make it look like my Pinterest board that somewhat mimics 90% of all Fixer Upper fan boards, that’d be great. K, thanks. Bye.”. I often imagine God, big and great and full of gifts in perfect checkered wrapping, rolling His great big eyes at me and saying “You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit”.
Merry Christmas. May you know the greatest gift and giver of gifts. And try not to throw a fit.