Unlikely, Interruptible, Joy

I’ve always loved Christmas lights. All of them—the dazzling, decorated-to-perfection homes and businesses with crisp white lights and coordinated ornaments, bows, garlands, and trees AND the colorful, playful, child-like decorations with a sense of whimsy and flare. Each has its own beauty and fills the dark wintery night with warmth and joy.

The past several months I’ve been waking (against my will) nearly every morning before dawn to walk my family’s new puppy, Mylie. At first, I was frustrated, inconvenienced, and irritated by her regular early morning whimpers, howls, or more recently, gentle nuzzles to go for a walk. As fall faded to winter, I began to notice a change in our morning walk scenery. In the darkness, prior to dawn, I noticed my neighborhood transforming as neighbors added festive décor to their homes and lawns. As the weeks passed, my dark early morning neighborhood stroll transitioned to being all aglow with Christmas lights sparkling in the pre-dawn hours. The shift from stark darkness to twinkling light reminds me of the Christmas story and Advent . . .

As I sit down to write this post, reflecting on the season and spirit of Advent, I am brought to a moment of reflection, perhaps examination, over the year come and gone. This year, 2025, has been filled with unlikely moments, countless interruptions, and unexpected joys. I invite you to pause with me and consider your year . . . I am willing to bet you too can recall moments that fit each of these words: Unlikely. Interruption. Joy.

In the Gospel of Luke, the author’s telling of the Christmas story focuses on a series of unlikely characters, moments of interruption, a call to remember, and places and emphasis on joy. In her Advent devotional Rachel Billups (2023) suggests, “God specializes in unlikely stories” (p. 29). I’d like to invite you to briefly consider two unlikely characters in the early chapters of Luke’s Gospel (but, there are many others).

First, the shepherds are minding their own business keeping watch over the flocks when out of seemingly nowhere—cue interruption—an angel of the LORD appears with a message, accompanied by a heavenly host breaking out in song. The shepherds receive the message, have a quick group discussion, abandon the sheep to go “see this thing that has happened,” and “hurry off” to find Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. The text tells us, “When they had seen him [Jesus], they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed . . .” (Luke 2:17-18, NIV). Unlikely event, total interruption, ending in joyful telling and amazement. As modeled by the shepherds, when it comes to the birth of Christ, “joy and celebration are the only appropriate responses” (Culpepper, 1995, p. 65).

Second, Mary is yet another unlikely character in the opening chapters of Luke. While there are many details in the opening chapters of Luke concerning Mary, my favorite part is found in Luke 2:19, “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” In the midst of the chaos—travel, searching for lodging (likely while in active labor), birthing a baby in a stable, welcoming unexpected, uninvited shepherds as the first visitors of her newborn baby, and wrangling all her emotions—Mary was present enough to recognize this was a powerful moment. A moment to pause. A moment of joy. A moment to treasure.

One of my mentors once told me to pause for 14 seconds when a moment is particularly moving and I want to hold on to it—remember it. He suggested pausing and “holding the moment” for 14 seconds creates a mental snapshot, like a mental polaroid, of the moment. I imagine that is just what Mary did, she took a series of mental polaroid’s—the moment Gabriel showed up, the journey to Bethlehem, the moment the shepherds arrived, Jesus’ presentation and dedication at the Temple, the visit from the Magi, the journey to Egypt . . . on and on.

In this season of my life, filled with much doing and going, I’m learning to become attuned to the gentle whisper of God reminding me to slow down, be attentive to the unlikely moments and people, be interruptible, remember, and find joy in the moments all around me. On my best days, I soak in these moments, these invitations from Holy Spirit to find joy in the unlikely, interruptible moments of my day. Walking our puppy in the snow. Pausing to read a book with my boys and “treasure up” these rare moments of childlike joy (and the very rare moments of stillness). Watching quietly in awe, with deep gratitude, as my husband helps a neighbor without being asked or seeking recognition. Listening to the questions and ponderings of my students. As humans, especially during hectic and busy seasons, (like—maybe—the holiday season?) we tend to “get caught up in the frenzy of human doing rather than the peace of human being” (Billups, 2023, p. 89).

The Gospel of Luke invites us to pause . . . notice the unlikely holy moments . . . welcome the interruption . . . treasure and remember the moments before us . . . find joy in the present. It is my hope that you will seek God’s invitation to pause (yes, even now), notice the unlikely moments (even when you are in a hurry and on a tight timeline), welcome the interruptions (yes, even when your to-do list is 10 miles long), remember the moments (take a mental polaroid picture), share joy (modeled by the shepherds), and treasure it all (modeled by Mary).

I’ve always loved Christmas lights. This season, as you notice the lights on the Christmas tree in your family room, the decorations at your church, or the holiday lights strung across the doorway of a local business, I hope you’ll pause. I hope the lights will remind you of the unlikely gifts of Advent, the call to be interruptible, and the gentle twinkle of the lights, like the Bethlehem star, fills you with unspeakable joy.