It would’ve been more efficient on my own. The pictures on Pinterest still freshly embedded in my mind and my own creative thoughts and ideas had left me with a very distinct vision, one that wasn’t quite materializing the way I had hoped.

I modeled how to pinch off just the right amount of clay and mold it around the wooden ball with each kid following suit. Their attempts were not as successful.  Poor Mary had one of her eyes smeared across her face and looked very much like she was experiencing some sort of facial spasm. The faces had tiny fingernail marks imprinted on them.   The wise men were starting to look suspiciously like Mario and Luigi and I made a mental note  to limit Judah’s  time playing Wii.

We were on day 8  of our advent activities. The tiny labeled tag read “make a homemade nativity set.”

 I had always sort of cringed at the Nativity scenes with the ornate porcelain figures.  Price and amount of room needed for such a display notwithstanding, I couldn’t imagine them surviving Christmas with my inquisitive two-year old.

Besides, something has always sort of irked me about all the little blonde Jesus babies. Ethnic accuracy aside, we have never had one to display.

Thus my brilliant idea to create one of our own.   Armed with Sculpey clay, wooden balls, and old thread spools, we gathered round the table to create our own Nativity.

This is where my confession must come in. “I am a self-confessed (thus the confession) control freak about these kind of things. I am the “ push the kids out-of-the-way to decorate the cookies better mom. The sure -you- can- help- me… find a project for them that has no direct impact on the look or outcome of the project mom.”

I am all for creativity and collaboration. Just not on my projects.

 But this was a family affair and so I was much less concerned with perfectly sculpted features than enjoying my kids and husband.

About the time Mary started to “smear” and one of the wise men was starting to resemble a sea-lion, I had to resist the urge to just “help out” and fix the problems.  After all, the point was family time and enjoying each other not a perfect nativity scene.  And it occurred to me as we sculpted away that in watching my kid’s enjoyment, my joy was entirely in the process.

The outcome would indeed be an authentic handmade (kid- made) Nativity scene, but the process would be tiny hands molding little faces, smiles and laughter and joking, because “Yes, that Wiseman does resemble a sea-lion.”

The result was something we would pull out each year with the memories wrapped tight and spilling out as we set up the little figures.

And isn’t that a large part of Nativity anyway? Emmanuel, God with us. He came down.   He certainly didn’t need to. He was doing fine without us and definitely possesses the skills to accomplish all of his plans without any assistance from us. The mere fact that he allows our little hands a place in the process bewilders.  That he truly is the patient father, encouraging and engaged as we go about imitating what he has so patiently taught is the way our relationship with Him grows.

And just as I look on my kid’s faces filled with silliness and creativity, I know God is enjoying our glorious imperfections as we grow with Him.