Sacred Connections: Baby Steps
This time of year, we anticipate the delight of a manger scene, to see images of our Savior, a babe swaddled in bands of cloth, adored and loved. Melanie Slane preached beautifully last Sunday – she reminded us of the vulnerability and messiness that comes with bringing forth new life. This was not a pristine manger scene filled only with love, faith and awe; but a scene also of real complexity, noisy crowding, and dealing with the hardships of life. For us, Jesus is always the focus and we can allow all of the difficulties to fall from view as Jesus draws us to him. Yet broadening our view to encompass the harsher realities of that scene, allows us to see even more clearly the brightness of Jesus’ light.
Our Lord comes to us in this most vulnerable way, a baby whose every need is dependent on those around him. And yet as we’ve experienced ourselves, or witnessed in others, babies can be very clear about what’s important to them and what is not. Nourishment, warmth, comfort, love, security – these are essentials. Other aspects of life, perhaps not so much. I was speaking with a new mother this week to help her prepare for her parent’s memorial service, and I could hear the sounds of a three-month-old proclaiming his presence in the background. He wasn’t crying, just using his voice. He had things to say, perhaps, “I’m here! Pay attention! Time for love!” There’s a wisdom we can see in babies, there are lessons we might relearn for ourselves.
“Just take baby steps.” This has been the advice my son, Ryan, has given to me and to others on many an occasion. In fact, he’s said it enough that I’ve internalized it and I find it particularly resonates right now. “Baby steps” are words of encouragement: Go slow. Take one intentional step at a time. Don’t lose heart. Be patient with ourselves and others. Do not try to run while it’s still a struggle to walk.
My son learned the necessity and wisdom of baby steps in his own life before he ever uttered those words. Many years ago, Ryan became very ill at the start of seventh grade and was eventually diagnosed with a severe case of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Not much was understood about it at the time, and we explored every viable treatment option. He was physically very weak and unable to stay awake for more than a couple of hours at a time. This was a dramatic shift from my boisterous, energetic son who aspired to be a professional baseball player, stand-up comedian, or president. Ryan was unable to attend school that year, and it took an additional year for his full recovery. It was surely a journey we would never have chosen, and yet it was formative in so many ways. During those two years, Ryan deepened in faith and self-understanding; and grew in empathy, compassion, and purpose. His journey of healing was by baby steps.
As individuals, families, a faith community, a city, country, world, it will take baby steps to make our way through recovery from the traumatic times we have experienced this year. We want to flip a switch and say, “All is well! We are back!” and that simple switch isn’t available. The presence of vaccines changes the outlook enormously and gives us great hope, yet it will require many baby steps to get those vaccines into enough people to bring forth the change we long to see. When the circumstances allow, it will take baby steps to open ourselves back up to the casual, warm interactions we cherish, to feel at ease in gathering with those we love, to experience the sense of freedom we long to enjoy.
This season let us be gentle with ourselves and each other. Let us remember the essentials of love, compassion, and care for one another. Let us treasure what we have now while we hold hope for the days to come. Baby steps. Let us walk together, always in Christ’s love.
