December Twenty-Fourth

We have attended three Christmas services at churches in the past few days! Each one was beautiful, but today’s was extra special. Led by our son, Greg, accompanying on guitar, it featured many lovely carols sung by the small group gathered at their church.

Especially meaningful to us was seeing our grandchildren, Adam and Allison, giving musical offerings on the keyboard, trumpet and flute. While having been band members throughout their high school careers, they’ve been taking piano lessons a scarce month and- a-half and have had their piano for barely a month. From the first tentative notes of Christmas music sounding forth from the piano a few weeks ago, they have progressed to the quite respectable repertoire they were able to present today. Daily we had heard with satisfaction the painstaking pounding of the keys in the repetition of practice--so worth it as we enjoyed their concert tonight!

It was the capping off of a day that had begun on a note of triumph when Howard came in from visiting an old acquaintance at the nursing home this morning. My husband was bubbling over with cheer and amazement that the Alzheimer patient had conversed lucidly and amiably with him, even joining in as he led the familiar worship songs and strummed the guitar. “I believe he is getting well and will go home soon!” Howard exclaimed positively, praising God for answered prayer.

Thanks to the foresight of our son and daughter-in-law, we would come in from the Christmas Eve service to the heady aroma of a crock-pot meal waiting for us, feeling like English bards of old as we savored the sauce of the roast pork and potatoes heaped tantalizingly upon our plates. Nostalgic tv movies after supper lulled us toward our beds.

All are sleeping now, no doubt with visions of sugar plums dancing in the heads of the little ones. A tell-tale plate of two cookies and a partially empty glass of milk left out presents a small vignette of childish fancy and parental conspiracy in fond acquiescence to young imaginations.

Our hearts spill over with gratefulness for God’s goodness this Christmas season. The words of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” come to mind as I reflect on the “..tidings of comfort and joy” that Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day! “O, tidings of comfort and joy!”

Do You Hear What I Hear?

“Mom, did Jamie’s house get broken into?” our oldest son asked frantically over the phone. Alarm shot through me as I asked what he was talking about. He said he had gotten a text from his youngest brother saying something about “I can’t believe how cruel crooks can be at Christmas.”

Mark said he had tried to call Jamie, but couldn’t get through. “I’ll look on my computer and see if he wrote anything about it and try to call him!” I exclaimed, promising to let him know as soon as I found out. My mind was racing with fears of their Christmas being ruined, gifts stolen and other frightening scenarios.

I reached Jamie at a restaurant, sounding calm as anything. He laughed and gasped at my question. “Mom, it was only a joke. Mark didn’t read all my text! I’ll call him and straighten it out!” Turns out Mark had sent Jamie a box of gift pears for Christmas. Trying to be funny, our clever son had quipped, “Mark, I got a present from you, but thieves had apparently stolen the contents and left fruit in its place!”

Like they say, texted or facebook words don’t always convey exact meanings, and messages can be misleading or lose their comic punch as something is lost in the translation. We heard a few amusing remarks from the guest at a church service last night as he was leading us in Christmas carols and commenting from his keyboard.

“As a small child, I always wondered why shepherds were washing their socks by night,” he pondered. A little later, though, in a serious mode as we were singing, “Come, Now is the Time to Worship”, he interjected the phrase, “I’ll never know how much it cost Him, To be born in Bethlehem,” giving the worship song a Christmas slant.

I heard an excerpt of a story recently from something called the Protoevangelium, from the 1st century AD, giving an amplified version of Jesus’ birth. It was written long after the event, but in an imaginative way reflects some of the ideas people shared back then. At some point in Mary’s labor, Joseph supposedly leaves her in the care of a mid-wife and takes a contemplative walk under the stars.

As he stares in wonder at their brilliance and is overcome by the magnitude of what is happening in the stable (or cave, as the story goes), suddenly he has a vision of everything in fixed frame: People are eating and laughing, but their fork is frozen in mid-air. Their mouths are open, but still. Workers are holding tools aloft but the hammer never strikes the peg. The narrator likens the experience to a sense of life standing still at other momentous occasions in ordinary lives—the birth of a child, a marriage, a loss of a loved one, and so on.

Our sons may have had a miscommunication, and children may misinterpret songs, but the message of Jesus's birth rings loud and clear from our most reliable source, the Holy Bible. And what a beautiful message it is—time stopping, you might say, for our calendars hinge on that birth, marking time as “The Year of Our Lord, 20ll,..” the number of years since He was born. And now we all stop in commemoration of that most Blessed event to celebrate Christmas!

In the Nick of Time

It came! And just in time! My order from Amazon was on the porch when I came in a while ago. Now, all except for making some goodies, my holiday is all wrapped up. Today is a beautifully clear, cold day after a vigorous snowfall made its appearance yesterday, with the trace that was left overnight having already disappeared by noon.

The household was up bright and early this morning in wraps and gloves, happily getting out of Millie’s way as she made the house sparkle for Christmas. “It feels like we’re on a trip!” I said to our son Greg as we all sat down to breakfast at our favorite eatery. I could imagine us all piling into their SUV and hitting the highway, but it will be a stay-home Christmas this year.

I can’t imagine that any more presents will be put under the tree, but one never knows when a last-minute impulse will strike a generous chord in someone overcome with the Christmas spirit. Stockings with their gaping mouths and slack lengths have been “hung by the chimney with care”, Cookie Monster’s head protruding from the top of the one for the youngest among us.

The family is still on their outing, possibly taking in a Christmas movie this afternoon in their unaccustomed free time from work and school. Howard had to go in to work for a few hours, but he is taking off early so that we can go with a group of church friends to a nearby town for a candlelight communion service and time of fellowship tonight. An accomplished musician and well-liked speaker will be a featured guest, so we are looking forward to an inspirational evening in keeping with the season.

As the saying goes, “Jesus is the reason for the season.” The Bible says in Galatians 4:4 that God sent his Son “in the fullness of time”, so that means He came just in time, too! And when Mary wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, she really was wrapping the first Christmas Gift!

Keeping Track

“Where is that order?” I wonder again as something I bought on the internet still hasn’t arrived. A little book. Something that would build the self-esteem and stretch the imagination of the 6-year-old girl in residence. She likes dancing, so I thought of Maria Tallchief, Oklahoma’s (and America’s) prima ballerina, and sought out a children’s book about her as a Christmas gift for the little dancer.

Now it is only two days before Christmas, and it finally occurred to me to track the order on internet. I found out it came several days ago, went to our former address, was forwarded and now is in Dallas, Texas, in transit! What a fiasco!

I feel like Daniel who had prayed for deliverance for his people from the Babylonian captivity and was despairing that his prayer had been heard. Finally, an angel appeared to him and told him his prayer had been heard 21 days ago, but opposing forces had delayed the victory. (Daniel was granted a behind the scenes peek into God’s tracking system!)

Getting the book will mean tying up the last of the loose ends of Christmas preparation. A pre-Christmas day passed yesterday punctuated with the pleasant distractions of craft-painting with children as the snow flew thick and fast outside, the arrival of precious photo Christmas cards of family, seeing friends who had dropped by, enjoying the warmth of their visit (and the warming cups of hot chocolate from the gift-mix they had left!) and the surprise of finding my sister has published an e-book!

What will today hold? We have been invited to a special candlelight communion service and fellowship tonight at a small church in a neighboring town. Pre-Christmas cleaning is on the schedule, too, and I’m sure many other things will crop up. One thing I can be sure of though, God has everything on track!

Countdown

Am I experiencing the expectation of Christmas? Why else do I wake up and stay awake after only five hours’ sleep? It reminds me of when I was expecting my babies. An inner excitement made me get up and stitch on baby clothes. All mothers can relate to Mary, especially those who have babies around Christmas time. One of ours was born three weeks before Christmas, and another only a week before Christmas—my best Christmas presents!

Now I have a granddaughter who may be going into labor with her first child. The doctor said it could be a Christmas baby! His middle name is to be Nicholas, since that is his father’s middle name, but how apropos!

Or maybe I’m just beginning to feel the “Christmas spirit”. Up to now, I had felt rather neutral about the approaching holiday. True, I had spent most of my emotional energy on our great Thanksgiving family gathering, so Christmas seemed like an anti-climax. But yesterday things changed. Beginning with the weather.

After days of dreary, unpleasant, cold mist and rain, we woke up to a day of bright sunshine and crisp temperatures. A perfect day to explore shops downtown and browse in unhurried luxury, since all my preparations have been completed. The explosion of color and cheer from bins overflowing with the latest toys and intriguing, ingenious gadgets and playthings were a boon to my spirit.

Then, near the rear of a gift shop, I noticed a clearance table. My husband and I fingered the novelties, exclaimed over an unusual dish or gizmo, and were moving on when I spotted something I loved! A bright, hand-painted wooden checkerboard, looking like the antique ones I had always coveted. It wasn’t antique, of course, but it had lovely stylized birds and flowers painted in folk art at each end. It was half price and looks lovely on my shelf!

A special church service last night left me in a tender Christmas mood, and a couple of days after Christmas I will see my sister for the first time all year. I’m also looking forward to seeing my son and his family from North Carolina again, having seen them all-too-briefly at Thanksgiving. Our Christmas menu has been made, guests are coming and the joy of little ones will permeate the whole house. How can I help but have the Christmas spirit and be pregnant with expectation?

The Coming of Christmas

Once in a while during the Christmas season, all the extraneous trappings of the holiday are peeled back to reveal an astonishingly simple, yet miraculous, story so poignant and holy that you wonder how it has been so cleverly disguised in the distraction and bustle of celebration that purports to honor it.

Tonight was such a night, as our church commemorated Jesus’ birth with a candlelight communion service, recognizing the beginning of His life on earth and also His request that his death be remembered in this way.

Just a greeting, a prayer, the reading of the Christmas story from the Bible and a beautiful carol sung eloquently by a young woman who accompanied herself on the guitar. As her sweet soprano voice rang strong and clear with the words, “Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing o’er the plains, And the mountains in reply echo still their joyous strains,” we could sense the starry night, the blue velvet sky, and the resplendent heavenly host choir singing “Gloria, Gloria, in Excelsis Deo.” The strange Latin words are translated, “Glory to God in the Highest.”

Then a time of Holy Communion as the elements were distributed by our senior statesmen of the faith, and the prayers of thanks they offered for what they represented: the atonement for our sins as Christ gave His life for us. Small candles had already been distributed to each person in the congregation, and as the ushers lit the ones of those nearest the aisle, they in turn shared their light with the one next to them, and so on until the entire dimmed sanctuary was aglow in an interactive, tangible illustration of being a light to the world.

“The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, And upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death Light has dawned,” my husband read from Matthew 4:16 , a prophecy of Jesus spoken by Isaiah.

By this time, in an atmosphere where hearts were tender with love and gratitude, the soloist strummed the notes of “Silent Night,” and we reflected on the humble scene of Mother and Child as we joined in the chorus of solemn adoration.

Sweet fellowship followed in a surprise reception organized by the youth department where homemade goodies and homegrown conversation warmed us against the chill night, so starry and still, into which we headed homeward, mute with our thoughts and the magnitude of that silent night.

Fancy Meeting You Here!

Who is that woman? I wondered, when I saw a familiar-looking face at the check-out counter as we entered the supermarket. I was sure I knew her, but I just couldn’t place her. From our old church? A visitor at our new church? Clerk at a store? Former hair dresser? These impressions raced through my mind from a mental check list as I wracked my brain.

“Oh, I remember!” I said aloud to my husband as we neared the back of the store. “She’s from the Bible study, BSF, where I used to go!” I hadn’t seen this member of my group since the local chapter of BSF closed more than a year and a half ago. “I wish I had gotten to speak to her!” I exclaimed. Then, as we were on our way to the front, I spotted her headed toward the exit.

“Hi!” I called, as she was about to go through the automatic double doors. She didn’t hear me, so I called a couple more times as I hurried toward the receding figure. She was halfway out, but suddenly she turned around. “Remember me? From…” I started to say, when she finished, “BSF! Hi!”

“You wrote a book!” she remembered, pointing at me in recognition.

“And you’re the one who went to Oberammergau for the Passion Play! I told my husband you were the one who travels!” I responded.

“Yes, I just got back from China only a couple of days ago!” she exclaimed. It was if we were long-lost friends. “I was reading in your book,” she said, “when I came across something, and I thought, Wait! That sounds like me!”

“About the valentine cakes? Yes, that was you!” I admitted. We laughed and I told her I had another book at the bookstore now. “Read it! There might be something else about you. I don’t remember,” I teased.

How good it was to meet her again! We had shared God’s Word, testimonies, prayer, tears and laughter during those days. It’s no wonder we felt a bond.

“I’m going to Hawaii in the Spring,” my friend announced. “My kids are taking me.”

“And I’ve been invited to go to France in the summer!” I replied, “I might go if I get up the nerve.”

Our son is going, again, and he offering his guide expertise to family members who might be interested. I told him I would prefer to go to Israel, so he said to get a passport; that might be arranged the next year! Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone I know over there. It’s a small world, and God’s people are everywhere, at home and abroad!