Christmas is a time of the year that we often idealise. Christmas songs paint portraits in our minds of perfect, beautiful scenarios – chestnuts roasting by an open fire or "Silent Night, Holy Night." All is calm, all is bright. Advertisements on television or in magazines show scenes of perfect Christmases – expensive homes, perfect-looking people, perfect families, lots of presents under the tree, a fire in the fireplace. It's all so idyllic and so perfect. 

But it's very easy to look at our own lives and compare them to these starry-eyed visions and realize that our lives are less than that.

Maybe you couldn't afford to buy presents for your kids this year. Maybe you are sick, or someone you love is sick. Maybe somebody is missing from the dinner table this year, someone important to you. Maybe it feels like this holiday season will bring more pain than joy. Maybe you're alone. There's nothing like the holidays to make you feel that loneliness with every fiber of your being.

There’s pressure from media and advertising trying to get us to strive to be these perfect people that live these perfect lives. But this time of year, it’s not only the secular world. It also comes from the religious world, with refined and antiseptic visions of even the original Christmas. For example, how many of us have nativity scenes at home? A baby Jesus in a manger, surrounded by Mary, Joseph, cuddly barnyard animals, shepherds, wise men (even though they weren’t part of the original scene), and angels, all framed under a glowing star. It warms our hearts. The perfect Christmas!

But no. We’ve turned this scene into a cliché and often forget what the real original Christmas actually was. 

Let’s have a look at a passage in Luke together. This is Mary's song of praise after she visits Elizabeth. You probably know the story. John the Baptist leapt in his mother's womb, Elizabeth prophesied to Mary, and then Mary responded with this song of praise. It might seem to you like just a random exclamation, but actually, in the theology of Luke’s Gospel, this is very much prophetic.

In other words, Mary is not just praising God. She's prophesying under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. This is what she says:

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For He has regarded the lowly state of His maidservant;
For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed.
For He who is mighty has done great things for me,
And holy is His name.”

(Luke 1:46–55 NKJV)

Mary – a young woman – likely dreamed about her future. No doubt, she imagined meeting a good man, getting married, having kids, a home, a garden, and growing old together with grandchildren. A fairy tale.

And it seemed like it was happening. She reached marrying age and was matched with Joseph. Maybe that was a nerve-wracking process. But Joseph was good looking, had broad shoulders, and had a job. He was a carpenter. He could bring home the bacon and build the furniture. Mary must have thought, “I've hit the jackpot.”

Then the angel Gabriel visited her. “Mary, you are the most highly favored woman in the entire world.” Mary thought, “My life is going to be even more amazing than I dreamed.”

She was going to get pregnant out of wedlock. And nobody believed her immaculate conception story. The neighbors were talking. Her family’s name was tarnished. Joseph had second thoughts and considered putting her away.

When the time came to give birth, it wasn’t in a hospital, it was far from home. No room at the inn, only a barn, surrounded by stinky, annoying barnyard animals. No mother or grandmother, just random shepherds.

It probably felt like the worst day ever. And it wasn’t the end. Her son wouldn’t grow up to give her grandchildren, but would become a man of controversy and die a shameful criminal’s death. The pain she would experience would be immeasurable.

Even in the disruption of what Mary thought would be her perfect life, God's will was being done in and through her. Mary could have lived her dream life, but she wouldn’t have changed history or birthed the purpose of God.

Some of us feel the same. We had a plan – everything was unfolding beautifully – and then life happened. And now we sit saying to ourselves, “This isn’t where I wanted to be.”

Notice what Mary does when everything looks out of control. She begins to worship: “My soul magnifies the Lord.”

Your soul – your mind, will and emotions – is a magnifying glass. To magnify is to enlarge something in your vision. Mary chose to magnify God, not her problems.

Your soul is powerful. Whatever you focus it on will grow and consume your awareness. If you focus on bills, they grow. If you focus on sickness or loss, that’s what looms largest. Mary could have magnified her pain, or her difficult circumstances or everything going wrong, the loss of her own plans. But she chose to set her heart, will, emotions and affections on the Lord. And she began to praise and worship.

Her spirit filled with thanksgiving. Her heart overflowed with love. Her entire heart and life magnified the Lord.

So here is the challenge this Christmas season: let your soul focus on Jesus.

One way to do that is through worship. Don’t just sing. Let your soul, your heart, your mind, your will and emotions focus on the Lord. Let Him consume you until He becomes the end-all, the be-all. Never mind the gifts or the people – let Him receive all the glory.

May Jesus be glorified in your life this Christmas!