Always An Angel

Growing up in a pastor's family, my siblings and I knew one thing for certain about Christmas celebrations. It wasn't what or how many gifts we would receive. Nor was it what we would have for dinner - that was often dictated by if we were given a turkey, roast, or packet of venison from churches we served. It wasn't even if we'd get a new Christmas outfit (sometimes new socks were a cause for rejoicing). The certainty was that we WOULD be part of the Christmas pageant. While my brother had a rotating acting schedule of Joseph, shepherd, and wise(cracker)man, I knew that my role was set in stone. I was an angel. Always.

I blame it on my blond (once-upon-a-time) hair. It was brilliant blond. And of course we all know that biblical angels had shimmering blond hair and wore white sheets with wire hanger wings, right? Oh, and of course halos made of garland adorned their heads. I must admit, that years later, I still harbor a bit of resentment due to the fact that as much as I used my verbal skills to plead my case to be Mary, I was not heard. Why couldn't I be Mary? Because, I was told, by many a SS superintendent, I didn't have brown hair. (I also suspect that it was because I wasn't quite docile enough to be Mary material). So it was, that year after year, I watched my sweet spirited, brunette haired friends, don their pale blue garments and gently rock their doll babies to the background sounds of Silent Night. I hope no one noticed the scowling angel who forgot her radiant smile.

The days of pageant acting are done for me, but I'm still learning the lesson of being content and yes, joyful, at who God has called me to be. Too many times I look at the Marys in my life and silently think of how wonderful it must be to have their roles. I'm afraid I've missed much of the joy I could have/should have known coveting a position that was not mine, instead of enjoying spreading my wings and glorifying the One the true angels adore.