This past summer my husband, Tom, and I had the privilege of being in the audience when Richard Foster, author of the bestselling Celebration of Discipline, was interviewed on the 40th anniversary of the book’s publication. On that hot July day, Foster said that he thought God’s greatness was most often shown to us through his goodness. I have been turning this truth over in my mind ever since.
Honestly, 2024 has been a tough year for the Hotchkiss family. Both of my parents died this year. Another precious, close friend who was a mentor to both of us also passed away. There have been breakups and sickness and financial setbacks in our close circle. And we, like all Americans, lived through a particularly vitriolic and disheartening election season. And whether we like it or not, we bring all that baggage to Christmas, often with unrealistic expectations. The messages that surround us say that “This is the happiest time of the year,” and “Joy to the world,” and sometimes I wonder why I can’t feel that vibe.
As an Episcopal priest’s wife, I have often felt like a woman whose military husband is overseas as I make most of the Christmas preparations alone. As our children have grown up and left our house, I feel less pressure. I have also learned to see that the greatest story ever told most often comes to me in the small graces or, in the words of Richard Foster, “God’s goodness.” I wanted to share some of those graces in hopes that it will help us all pay more attention to the thin places, where God’s goodness comes to us during this Christmas season.
When our oldest son was only 1, his grandmother taught him the nativity story with her crèche, and I’ll always remember him on his grandmother’s lap pointing to the infant in the manger and exclaiming “Baby Jesus!” with glee. Last year we gave his children a Fisher-Price Little People Nativity set, and they used the figures to act out the Christmas story over and over on their living-room floor. This was a moment of grace I’ll always remember.
Right after seminary, we moved about an hour away from my hometown. The goodness of God I remember most during those years was my father spending the night on Christmas Eve so I could go back to church at night and receive something more. There was also the children’s service when our youngest son, age 2, began to dance in the aisle as we were kneeling for “Silent Night.” I reached over and grabbed him, but his feet kept dancing. His dance may not have been liturgical, but it was beautiful and the mere thought of it always brings a smile to my face.
We lived in Birmingham when our sons were in elementary school. One year during the school holidays, I read in the newspaper that the Salvation Army did not have enough toys to distribute to the families who had signed up to receive them. After discussing this, my boys and I jumped in our van and used a Walmart gift card we had been given to buy as much as the card limit would allow and drove downtown to the Salvation Army headquarters. All three of us were moved to tears as we saw a long line of families waiting to get in the building to receive Christmas gifts for their children, and a longer line of cars with people who heard about the need for the gifts and responded.
This year I have also seen God’s goodness in the small things. I was there at the time of both of my parents’ deaths, and I received love from the many friends who reached out to me. And all year we have seen the light and the love in my grandchildren’s faces when we’re with them or speaking to them by FaceTime.
Of course, this Christmas I will feel awe and wonder that God became human and was born of a virgin in a little town called Bethlehem. I may not be able to fully comprehend his miraculous love for me, but I resonate with the words of “The Goodness of God” by Bethel Music:
I love you, Lord
Oh your mercy never fails me,
All my days I’ve been held in your hands …
Cause all my life you have been faithful,
And all my life you have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
I will sing of the goodness of God.
I hope this Christmas you can see the small graces as evidence of God’s goodness to you and believe that you are indeed held in his hands. It just might be that God’s greatness is told not only in the miracle of Jesus, but in the truth that he comes to you in big and especially in small ways daily.
Marcia Hotchkiss is a Guest Writer. She is program director for the Abbey on Lovers Lane, Dallas.