It’s New Year’s Eve. 7:30 p.m. It’s dark and it’s quiet here at my house. In just a few hours, it will be 2011.
On the other side of the world, New Year’s Eve has come and gone. That part of the globe has already begun 2011 – a brand new year.
The words of an old song keep rambling around my mind tonight – “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?”
“Maybe it’s much too early in the game Aah, but I thought I’d ask you just the same What are you doing New Year’s New Year’s eve? Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight When it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night Welcoming in the New Year New Year’s eve Maybe I’m crazy to suppose I’d ever be the one you chose Out of a thousand invitations You received Aah, but in case I stand one little chance Here comes the jackpot question in advance: What are you doing New Year’s New Year’s Eve?”
I know who I’m spending New Year’s Eve with, the same person I’ve spent this holiday with for over three decades, my husband. We’re spending a peaceful evening at home, just the way we like it. For the younger set in the family, they are celebrating with friends.
It seems to me that so many people worry about having plans for New Year’s Eve. But I think we should focus more on what plans we have for the entire new year which lies ahead, not just this evening. I’m not suggesting making resolutions, which we end up breaking in a few weeks or months.
Instead I wonder what will those of us who are believers in Christ do to further His kingdom in the coming year? How will we reach out to those who don’t know Him as their Savior and Lord of their lives? What shall we do to encourage those who are hurting and alone?
We’ve got an entire year ahead of us, God willing, to put some plans into practice. So my question for myself and you is not “What are you doing New Year’s Eve?” Instead it is “What are you doing in the new year?”
Some people drift into our lives for just a short sojourn. You’re friends with those people for a season.
I have always believed that those friendships exist for a reason, either to aid your friend along this journey called life or to encourage you. But sometimes circumstances change and the friendship goes by the wayside, just slowly fading away.
Some folks though are lifetime friends. No matter what changes may occur, these special people have been and will continue to be your friends for life. Even if you don’t see them all the time, they are there for you when you really need them and vice versa. And when you do reconnect, it’s like you’ve never been apart.
Recently I had lunch with one of my lifetime friends. We’ve known each other since first grade and our friendship has stood the test of time for 50 years. Unfortunately, we live far enough away from each other to prevent us from seeing one another often, but every couple of months or so, we arrange to meet for lunch at a mall restaurant midway between our homes.
My relationship with this friend is aptly described by a passage written in the 1800’s by English novelist and poet Dinah Mulock Craik in her novel, A Life For a Life: “Friendship is the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring all right out just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful friendly hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping and with a breath of comfort, blow the rest away.”
That personifies the kind of friendship I experience when I am blessed to converse with this particular lifetime friend. She is one of the few people with whom I can truly “let down my hair.” She has known me for so long, in good times and not so good times.
I know I can share my innermost thoughts with her and she won’t criticize or judge me or walk away saying, “That girl’s nuts!” I would trust this woman with my very life, and I only hope I am as great a friend to her as she is to me.
Our lunch was lengthy…well, not the actual eating of soup and salad, but the conversation that followed was full and meaty. We had so many life moments to catch up on – her daughter’s recent wedding, updates of my three adult children’s lives.
We shared joys – her young friend’s getting his heart transplant on Thanksgiving Day! What an amazing answer to prayer! We shared trials and tribulations. And as always happens when we spend our quality time together, our discussion is seasoned with God’s Word. We marvel at what God continues to accomplish in our lives and the insights He provides for us and teaches us. What joy it is to share those things with a beloved believing friend!
Sharing time with a friend like this is such a treasure that you don’t want the occasion to end. But we did comprehend the rather pointed hint from our waitress when she visited our table for the umpteenth time and asked, “Will there be anything else before you finally go?” (Huge emphasis on the word go!) That prompted us to check our watches, realize we had been there for well over three hours, tip our waitress again and exit the restaurant.
But still we weren’t quite ready to depart, so we stood in the mall corridor and chatted some more, eventually sitting down on a bench to continue our conversation. Time marches on though and we needed to wind up our day and head back to our homes, husbands and daily life. Why is it that immensely enjoyable times like this must always come to an end?
I imagine my experience with my dear lifetime friend is just a very tiny glimpse of what heaven will be like. We will fellowship with beloved believers, worshiping and praising our Almighty God face to face, and that fellowship we share will be so sweet, but – here’s the good part! – that blessed time will never, ever end!
“A true friend is the gift of God, and He only who made hearts can unite them.” ~Robert South, British minister
All’s quiet on the western front. Hubby and I live in the western part of the homeland and we were spared the gargantuan snow storm that blew through our neighboring states.
We do have a blanket of the white stuff; actually we’ve had snow on the ground for a few weeks now, but we didn’t get the blizzard this time.
So the weather has been calm here and now our house is quiet and serene as well. The happy festivities of the Christmas season are over and for those few days we celebrated together as a family, our time was merry and bright.
Our Christmas spirit meter zoomed upwards significantly on Christmas Eve. At first, we were all subdued and somber as we dined early because middle daughter was scheduled for the night shift at her hospital. But then, she received the magical call stating she was free – staffed down and not needed! We literally cheered aloud and immediately, our spirits soared. It was like we were bi-polar!
“The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.” ~ Burton Hillis (pseudonym used by the late William Vaughan, columnist).
We had some serious Christmas celebrating to do as a family! The rest of the evening was lovely. We laughed, we teased each other, and we followed our tradition of choosing a gift to open on Christmas Eve.
Later, perched in church pews at candlelight service, we joyfully ushered in Christmas Day at midnight with candles glowing, voices raised in carols, and the old country church bell pealing through the crisp, dark night. Greeting our fellow believers with hugs and “Merry Christmas!” ended our evening on a high note.
Christmas Day found us feasting and cradling a newborn baby in our arms. My nephew and his wife were blessed with their first child a few days before Christmas, a precious little girl – the princess. (Read here if you missed why she is the princess: http://mamasemptynest.wordpress.com/2010/12/02/continuing-to-give-thanks/)
Baby girl’s grandparents on both sides and my family of five gathered at my nephew’s house with dishes of food, plates of goodies, and good cheer eager to meet and greet this new family member. And she won over all of our hearts; she is adorable!
After church on Sunday, we indulged once more with yet another home-cooked meal of our favorite Christmas food, spreading out the holiday to make it last a little while longer. But now, since the plentiful presents have been presented and the delectable delights doled out, Mama and Dad are left home alone once more.
Middle daughter departed Monday morning for the city and her nursing job. Today son set off for the next-door state and oldest daughter joined him for a couple of days. She wants to see his new residence and the two of them will venture into the big, big city for some sightseeing fun.
This time around as the nest emptied out, even Dad got a little melancholy. But they will all return for New Year’s Day dinner.
It was nice to forget about our troubles during the season of Christmas, spend time with our family and focus on the reason for the season. For now though, it’s back to reality land, where there are more challenges facing us. Charles Dickens’ character Ebenezer Scrooge proclaimed in A Christmas Carol, “I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all year.”
That is what we need to do – keep Christmas in our hearts all year. “I wish we could put up some of the Christmas spirit in jars and open a jar of it every month,” wrote Harlan Miller in Better Homes and Gardens.
I think we can do that. Instead of putting love, joy and peace in jars, we can put the fruit of the Spirit in our hearts where we can use them every month of the year. So hubby and I are going to try with all our might to retain “that holiday feeling” as we face what the New Year has in store for us. But most of all, we’ll continue to remember that we have a Savior who will never forsake us.
Have a holly jolly cookie or two or three or more. Go ahead and eat so many you won’t fit through the door!
Middle daughter and I baked cookies until we were sick of looking at them today. We didn’t make as many sweets as we usually do, but we have more than we should eat, that’s certain!
We just picked out a few favorite recipes and made those. Our gingerbread men and teddy bears are a little deranged looking but they taste yummy. Daughter also made our favorite salty snack – Chex mix – which we usually devour in no time at our house.
We were so tired of being in the kitchen, we ate leftovers for dinner and settled down in the family room to watch our favorite pro football team on television. And oh yeah, right now they are crushing their opponent! Total domination. Wave the terrible towel! Merry Christmas to our favorite team!
While watching the game begin, I suddenly spied a figure jumping up and down on our deck in front of the French door and it wasn’t Santa. A few minutes earlier, I thought I had heard a car door slam shut, but decided it was too early for son to be arriving from the state next door.
But there he was, jumping up and down, dressed in a hysterically funny decorated “ugly Christmas sweater” (bright red sweater on which he had tied jingle bells and candy canes) and singing a made-up “Merry Christmas” song as loud as humanly possible. What a picture! I told you he was our funny one.
Oh what joy! Christmas is almost upon us. Two are home, one more to go. A trip to the airport awaits us tomorrow to pick up oldest daughter. Then the festivities begin! And we will have a holly, jolly Christmas! You have one too!
Christmas memories float in and out of my mind like a delicate, intricate snowflake swirling and twirling through the air as it journeys downward.
One of two events must take place – either the bit of snow lands softly on the icy backs of all the other flakes that fell to earth or the tiny fleck alights on something of warmth, like my outstretched hand, where it melts away forever.
I make concerted efforts to make certain my cherished memories land on heaps of other memories, to deposit them like snow in a snow bank, where at any point in time, I can withdraw thoughts of a pleasant place, event or a meaningful conversation with a loved one and remember.
I’m not sure who Augusta E. Rundel was, but I found this quote she wrote tucked away in my quote notebook - “Christmas — that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance — a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.”
The Christmas season always sends me to my memory bank. I feel blessed and fortunate that it invokes delightful memories that I can wrap around myself like a magic blanket. I can only hope my children will have pleasant recollections to also remember someday.
For the last two days, my co-workers/friends and I have been weaving spells of Christmas nostalgia at our office. Well, if the truth must be told, we’ve been relating our fond Christmas memories in between gobbling down all the goodies that have been pouring into our office non-stop.
Just today - and I am not exaggerating – we were treated to several plates of Christmas cookies, pizza, sweet snacks, salty snacks, homemade candy, chocolate and raspberry candy, nutty homemade caramel candy, (who makes homemade caramel these days – a lovely supporter of ours, that’s who!) and six different flavors of fudge!
Perhaps our sugar highs contributed to all the reminiscing, but I heard some great and heartwarming stories. One of my dear friends has grown children like I do. She was very near tears as she shared that this year, for the first time, neither of her children will be home for Christmas morning. Her family will be together later in the day, but she felt blue about the changes in her Christmas tradition.
I tried to console her (although I don’t think I managed very well) and I thought about those changes that will someday affect me. None of my children are married yet, so they have nowhere else they must be on Christmas morning. But how will I cope with those changes when my children spend Christmas morning in their own homes with their spouses and families or with in-laws? Hmm…considering that inevitability caused me to make a withdrawal at my memory bank.
Let me take you back about 18 years ago….. My family, consisting of hubby, our three young children and myself, lived in the Pacific Northwest. The day after Thanksgiving, as was our tradition, we had ventured out to chop down our fragrant Christmas tree, one with such a large trunk we had to purchase a sturdier tree stand. They grow big trees out there!
Our three were beside themselves with excitement as we hauled out the ornaments, lights and the special angel who always sat on top of our tree. That evening, we extinguished all the lights in our living room and gathered around as hubby plugged in the decorated tree. Our children squealed with delight, and then fell into silence as we sat enthralled and basked in the shining beauty of it!
I have the most vivid memory of sitting on the living room floor with oldest daughter, who was probably 10, cuddled up on one side of me; middle daughter, at age seven, on the other side; and four-year-old son on my lap. Our twinkling, sparkling Christmas tree glowed like something magical as we began the season in which we celebrated the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Emotion welled up inside of me and I started to weep.
“Mommy, Mommy, what’s wrong?” my children asked. “Why are you crying?”
Hubby looked at me questioningly, probably thinking, “What did I do wrong now?” But he bravely inquired, “What’s the matter?”
It was difficult to get the words out and make any sense of them. But the joy and happiness I experienced sitting in front of our tree with my three little ones and my husband had suddenly turned to melancholy. Even now, recalling that night and writing about it brings tears to my eyes once again.
I tried to explain my tears to my husband, knowing my little ones wouldn’t really understand. I remember saying, “I just want to sit here and hold our children close, to remember this moment forever because some day, they will be all grown up and times like this will be just a memory. They will grow up and leave our home and we will never get these moments back. And I don’t want to lose that.”
That’s the truth. I really did think that all those years ago. This memory is stored in my bank. I saw a glimpse of the unavoidable future that night and I knew that when that time came, it would make me sad. And here I am, those years are upon me.
This year as our Christmas tree was lit for the first time, only hubby and I were here to experience it. In the near future, we, no doubt, will encounter Christmases when our children aren’t home for the holiday.
That’s why this Christmas with all of my kids home, I will once again cherish the memories, guiding each whirling, twirling thought into my snow bank of reminiscences.
I hope you will do the same. Hold tightly to those you love this season, take a moment to savor the sweetness of your time together, and then stow your lovely thoughts away in a spot for safe-keeping, whether it’s in your memory or written down – lest like the snowflake, they melt away.
The most soothing thing to me is a cup of hot, steaming tea.
A lot of people kick start their mornings with a jolt of java. Not me. Coffee smells intriguing, but I find its taste revolting.
I can hear you coffee drinkers gasping out loud at such a statement and I’m sure you must think I’m insane. But no matter how much you doctor up that cup of joe, with chocolate, vanilla, steamed cream, moonbeams…whatever, it still doesn’t taste delicious to me.
One time years ago, a friend convinced me to go to Starbucks for some caramel-laced coffee concoction that she was certain would cure my java jilting. Nope, didn’t work. I took a tentative sip, then took another and declared it unfit for human consumption. Meanwhile, my friend practically inhaled hers!
So thank you, but no thank you to coffee. I’ll just stick to my tea, a lovely spot of relaxing tea. Awhile ago, a co-worker informed me that she had heard that the caffeine in coffee was highly stimulating, but in tea it actually worked in an opposite fashion. Instead of wiring you up, giving you the jumpy jitters like java, tea calms you down. I’ll second that!
Tea has been attributed to some health benefits as well. Apparently, tea contains antioxidants, which protect your body from harmful effects of pollution and even against cancer. Some studies even claim tea may reduce the risk of heart attack and stroke and protects our bones, keeping them strong. And that’s not all, tea supposedly gives our immune systems a boost.
There are several varieties of tea in my kitchen cupboard – everything from fruity herbal to stomach soothing peppermint. Green tea, black tea, white tea. Irish breakfast tea to start your day. Decaffeinated camomile lemon to finish it. That’s a sampling of the various teas you can expect to be offered at my house.
My young co-worker/friend is partial to Earl Grey, but one day we shared a white spicy tea that was superb, using the last two teabags in our office kitchen. Since then we searched high and low for this particular tea, and he informed me the other day he found it after an internet search. That’s how serious we are about our tea.
I do like flavored teas, but most of the time, I reach for the good old reliable Lipton tea bags. Hot water poured straight from the boiling tea kettle over this staple, steeped enough to brew the perfect cup, no sugar, no cream. That’s the way I take my tea.
Tea just makes my day enjoyable. I’ve been a tea-toter since my childhood days. My mom. introduced me to hot tea, which she would make for me every morning, heavily laced with lots of milk and a little sugar. It warmed my body and warmed my soul as well. Eventually, I weaned myself off the milk and then the sugar, so now I take my tea straight. No dainty teacup for me, although I own many, I partake of my favorite beverage in a large mug, one I can cup my hands around to savor the warmth.
May I offer you a little soothing tea-time during this busy Christmas season to calm your spirit? Enjoy the following poem, entitled “The Christmas Teacup,” written by Sandy Lynam Clough.
“The pretty little teacup was once just a lump of clay, until God’s loving fingers gently molded it one day.
Stronger and more beautiful the teacup soon became; as its true purpose was defined, no lifeless clay remained.
So, let’s sit down and share a special cup of Christmas tea, and thank the Lord for all He does to fashion you and me,
Into the folks He had in mind long before our birth…the loved ones Jesus came to save when He came here to earth.”
My prayer for you, dear readers, is that you may find a little time during the next few weeks to put on the tea kettle, pour yourself a cup of serenity, curl up in your favorite chair with a soothing cup of tea, and reflect on the true meaning of the season – the birth of our Savior.
As for me, I must go now….the tea kettle’s whistling!
I confess. I used to announce to anyone who would listen that I was not going to have children. Yep, that was me – back in my college days.
Rewind the crazy movie reel of my life back to the 70’s when I was a college co-ed. I was so full of myself. I bought into the idea that a career would fulfill all my wildest dreams. I was so very wrong.
The notions and ideas I had of life then boggle my mind now as I revisit my past. I also used to spout quite often that I was never getting married. The single career life for me, that’s what I thought. I even wrote a silly little ditty – “A housewife I could never be, for that would be the end of me!”
Of course, all of that ranting was before I met the love of my life. After three years of dating, my true love and I advanced to matrimony. First notion shot down. Oh well, I still did work on the career thing, even though I changed careers because of dissatisfaction in my first choice.
Then after almost five years of marriage, along came oldest daughter. Notion number two blown completely out of the water. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect the intensity of emotion that flooded over me when I gave birth to my first child. The powerful emotional bond and overwhelming love I felt for this tiny little human being that had just emerged from my body was something I had never experienced before. Mother lion would have described me appropriately.
I couldn’t imagine being without her or leaving her in someone else’s care to return to my career. And after her birth, I didn’t go back to my job, a decision that never disappointed me. A new career had already been forged – motherhood. Three and a half years later, middle daughter was born and my intense mother lion feelings doubled. Son arrived two years after her and now my motherhood role and passionate love for my children tripled.
Fast forward to the present. Being the mother of my three now-adult children has been the most remarkable experience of my life. For most of those years, I was a stay-at-home mom, soccer mom, whatever you want to call me, but I have never regretted one solitary moment of my time spent at home raising my children.
Today I was given a little gift, a little bit of retrospect, a glimpse backward into time to remember what it felt like to be just “mama.” Middle daughter needed a medical procedure done today, one which required her to have a driver afterward. Last night she drove up from the city and spent the night preparing for this test. The mama in me kicked in big time. I shopped for clear liquids which she could drink, fussed over her, checked on her, heated up broth to warm her, and it felt so right and so good to do so – to be a mama taking care of her child.
Early this morning while it was still dark, we headed out into the blustery, snowy weather for the hospital’s outpatient department. I didn’t sleep well, too much consternation over daughter’s test. I spent a good portion of the night and this morning praying that my little girl in that grown up woman’s body would be safe during the testing and that the results would be good news.
While we waited for her test to commence, I wanted to protect her from any harm. I wanted to take her hand in mine and tell her all would be well. But what 25-year-old woman wants to be embarrassed by her mother fawning all over her? They whisked her off and I managed to blow my beloved child a kiss and tell her I loved her.
The nurse called me back to the recovery area as they wheeled in my daughter on her gurney. She was still sedated from the anesthesia and she looked just like the little princess she used to be as she slept with her mouth slightly ajar. Her nurse asked me, “Are you with her?” I answered, “Yes, I’m her mother.” As soon as those words emerged from my mouth, my sweet one’s eyes flew open and searched the room for me.
I’m not sure I can even put into words the feeling that enveloped me as I realized my daughter heard my voice and woke to search for her mama. Joy. Elation. Heartwarming. It made me smile as I stroked her head, tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear, and told her I was there. She smiled back at me with that groggy, silly way people who are coming out of sedation have.
Driving home, I asked if she was hungry and told her we could stop to get her something to eat, anything she wanted since she hadn’t eaten solid food for over 24 hours. Ever her mama’s daughter, she wanted donuts.
Right now, my very grown-up, responsible, independent, and self-sufficient daughter is tucked into her mommy and daddy’s bed napping nicely. Just like she did when she was a little girl. And on this day, this empty nest mama is rejoicing for the loveliest of gifts – the gift of being needed.
Oh, I don’t mean being crafty in the sense of the definition of the word: sly, shrewd, cunning or deceptive, although I suppose you could call many people crafty at Christmas time.
There’s the shrewd way some people act at the mall when they slide into a parking spot first while you were patiently waiting for the previous car to vacate the space.
Some people are downright cunning as they push and shove their way through crowds to get the very last [insert newest, hottest selling toy here].
And often times, we are very deceptive as we hide the Christmas presents or even the Christmas cookies so they won’t all be eaten before Christmas arrives!
No, I don’t mean that kind of crafty. I’m thinking more about those who are like Martha Stewart. Whoa, wait a minute, she did go to jail once….perhaps she was cunning or deceptive, huh? Well, let’s concentrate on her ability to take an ordinary branch off her juniper tree and turn it into the most amazing shimmery addition to a boring centerpiece that you ever have seen. That’s what I mean by crafty.
Some people can just take scraps of this, leftovers of that, add some ribbon and glitzy stuff and voila! A lovely Christmas ornament for your pine tree. Or there are those people who actually make Christmas gifts for family and friends. I admire their creativity and tenacity! And then there are the items that were lovingly handmade at school or in Sunday School class by your children when they were little. Crafts and Christmas just seem to go together.
I was thinking about that the other day when I finally finished decorating our Christmas tree. (Yep, I succumbed. I just couldn’t leave a bare-naked tree in my living room!) There are a lot of crafty ornaments residing in my Christmas décor boxes.
There’s the round painted one oldest daughter made in second grade, if I remember correctly. It hung on the mayor’s Christmas tree at City Hall in the town we lived in then. Middle daughter made candy canes out of red and white pony beads and pipe cleaners one year with her fellow Girl Scouts. Son constructed a baby Jesus in half a walnut shell in Sunday School way back when.
Several handmade ornaments that I purchased at craft shows or holiday bazaars also congregate in my boxes, some of those I even managed to make myself. Others were gifts bestowed upon me like the clear glass ball with a sketch of Jesus inside from my friend Laura (of course, I still have it hanging on my tree! or the half egg shell with a Christmas scene displayed inside of it, a gift from my mother many years ago.
Over the years, I’ve tried my hand at crafting other decorations as well, including a nutcracker wreath, a garland of felt stars with homemade buttons fashioned out of clay and baked in the oven, and who knows what else lurking in those boxes. When I unpack these items, it brings back a lot of delightful memories – some of my mother, some of my children as they were growing up, and some of friends, now far away.
When I was a little girl, my mother belonged to a “Home Extension Group.” A group of ladies met monthly at each other’s homes for a demonstration of home arts and a lovely lunch. Most of these women were my mom’s age or older and I vividly remember being the only youngster at those meetings until I got older and trotted off to school. Even then, I would be excited to jump off the school bus and enter my home to see the ladies from home extension there and taste the yummy leftover dessert.
These women would gather to craft or learn something new in the fine art of homemaking. Sometimes a representative from the state home extension office would visit and give a demonstration, perhaps on home canning or sewing. I still remember the year they made large white candles shaped like snowballs for Christmas. Whatever they were making or eating, this group of friends always seemed to enjoy their time together.
Several years ago when my family lived in the Pacific Northwest, I told this story of Mom’s home extension group to some of my friends and we decided to resurrect the concept. A few weeks before Christmas, we met at a friend’s home, spent the morning crafting together and sipping hot coffee or tea, then shared a tasty and delicious lunch.
That’s where my nutcracker wreath was designed. We all convened at the craft store to choose scads of items we would hot glue to our wreaths of artificial greenery. Festive ribbons, little nutcrackers, Christmasy birds, glittering balls, shiny strings of beads, twigs of fake holly…it looked like the Ghost of Christmas Present had thrown up all over the table!
But oh, the fun we had! We chatted and laughed as we crafted, enjoying each other’s company so much, giving advice about the placement of tinsel tidbits, which was beneficial because the more savvy decorators among us could give direction to those of us who were craft-deficient. Having relished our day together, we decided to continue the idea each week as we launched another Christmas craft. For the first time, I truly understood why my mother belonged to her “home extension group” for all those many years.
It wasn’t about the finished product, although that was nice. The real joy came from time well-spent with dear friends, savoring one another’s company with laughter and merriment yet sharing burdens and sorrows as well. It was about gathering for a lovingly home-cooked meal together as neighbors who had more in common than just the neighborhood where they lived.
Yes, it was a simpler time when my mother and those sweet ladies, whose faces I can still recall even though every one of them has left this world, convened every month for camaraderie and cake. But those simple times can be recaptured – my friends and I did it that one special time at Christmas. We just have to want to live a simpler life, to take time to visit those we treasure, and make memorable moments happen.
It’s Christmas. It’s time to slow down. Spend time with your closest friends and family. And while you’re at it, though you may not be “crafty,” make something special together – even if it’s just lovely memories.
Color of skin – not green. Heart – normal size. Miserly ways – don’t think so. Crankiness – well sometimes. Conclusion – I’m a normal human being, neither the Grinch nor Scrooge.
Really! Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. Honestly! To me it IS one of the “most wonderful times of the year.” Truly!
Somewhere in my rants about not feeling up to decking the halls and proclaiming ho-ho-ho with mistletoe, I think I have left my readers with the mistaken belief that I’m not a Christmas person. Completely untrue. It’s just that this year instead of being a Christmas fanatic, I’m in more of a reflective mood about the season I love.
I celebrate Christmas to commemorate the greatest gift God gave mankind when over 2000 years ago, a tiny babe was born in Bethlehem. That baby was the Messiah, Emmanuel, God With Us, Jesus Christ. But as I get older, I have to question what the hoopla we’ve made Christmas truly has to do with worshiping our Savior.
Many of the Christmas customs we utilize have nothing to do with our belief in Jesus. The light displays, the adorned Christmas tree, the over-indulgent feasts, the even more over-indulgent presents. What does any of it mean?
Every year the commercialism of the season grates on me. The frantic rush to the shopping malls to spend outrageous sums of money on gifts that we really don’t need saddens me when I know millions of our fellow human beings in the world are starving or have no decent housing.
The fulfillment of Christmas wish lists with gift cards and money make me sadder yet. Why don’t we just exchange money instead of calling it a gift? To me, a gift is something you thoughtfully consider. You think about the person you are giving the gift to, and you know that loved one well enough to choose something that will touch his or her heart and show how much you love and care for that person. But that takes time and consideration and in the crazy frenzy (only 14 more shopping days till Christmas!), it’s easier to just fulfill the items on a list.
My family is no different from any other families out there; there’s been some wish lists being emailed back and forth and we have succumbed to this way of shopping. Oh, we try to give to the needy whether it is donating to the bell-ringers of the Salvation Army, shopping for gifts to bestow on a family who is having a difficult year, filling shoe boxes for Samaritan’s Purse to be distributed to children, or purchasing “gifts” of animals, clothing, or other necessities to be sent world-wide through World Vision.
But is that enough? I think that’s why I’m feeling a little rebellious about this season of Christmas. I want Christmas to mean more. I want it to be revered, not just as a cherished tradition, but as a time when we stop focusing on the foolishness, ponder the wonder of God coming to earth to live among us, and give thanks for the saving gift of grace that our Lord Jesus Christ is.
I sometimes wonder what Jesus thinks about our elaborate celebrations and I’m reminded that He was born in a simple, lowly place. He lived His life here on earth in a plainly simple way, but oh, how much He accomplished!
He did not require jewels, fancy robes, or tables set before Him with an amazing array of food and drink. He did not expect exquisite decorations in the homes He visited. His focus was simply on people – the weak, the infirm, the needy, the lost. He didn’t ask for gifts, instead He gaveHis life as the ultimate gift when He took the sins of the world upon Himself and sacrificed His life on the Cross, so that we might live.
I’ve been reading a non-fiction book called Extraordinary Faith by Sheila Walsh. It’s not a new book and I’ve had it on my shelf for quite some time. I read it for a while, and then get busy and put it down, but I keep coming back to it because I really want to finish it. It’s good stuff.
Yesterday I took a little bit of time to open the book’s pages once again. And what I read in the chapter called “When We Fix Our Eyes on Jesus” imparted great truth to me. Ms. Walsh writes, “Faith here is a call to look up, to gaze at our Savior. Faith is a passionate gaze at the only One who can save us.”
She continues and then adds a passage of scripture, “Perhaps the greatest call to gaze on our Lord appears right after the great faith chapter of Hebrews 11: ‘Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.’ (Hebrews 12:1-2)”
That’s what I think is often missing at Christmas. We fail to look up, to gaze at the One who was sent on our behalf to save us from eternal separation from God. We don’t fix our eyes on Jesus. This year, I want to forego the trappings of Christmas. I want to throw off those things that hinder me from looking up and gazing at my Savior. I hope I can encourage you to do the same.
“Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” ~ Psalm 24:7
I want to fix my eyes on the King of Kings and Lord of Lords instead of gazing at a landscape of luminous lights, garlands of greenery galore, a bedecked and bedazzled balsam tree or the panoramic plethora of presents stacked beneath it. Instead of spending time baking and cooking and shopping, I want to feed my soul and the souls of others with the Word of God.
For those of us who call ourselves believers in Christ, the season of Christmas should be first and foremost a season of faith – faith that is sufficient for everything we need. As Ms. Walsh writes, “Faith is not wishful thinking or theatrics. Faith is born in us as we fix our eyes on Jesus and as we recognize the fingerprints of God the Father all over our lives.”
God had His fingerprints all over the gift He gave us that very first Christmas, His Son Jesus Christ. And today, centuries later, He still has His fingerprints on us. Let us rejoice and be exceedingly glad.
I pray that this Christmas you will fix your eyes on Jesus, that you will allow the Word of God to speak to your life amidst the hustle and bustle of the season.
Tradition rules in this household. At least that is what my grown-up children believe.
I think I may have created Christmas Tradition Monsters. Yes, it is true that my adult children have their homes decorated for Christmas long before their parents. And this seems to have messed with their minds.
See, tradition calls for Mom and Dad to work themselves into a frenzy to have the entire house decorated inside and out by the Monday after Thanksgiving. We’ve already broken tradition number one.
Sunday evening after my kids all sent me picture messages of their trees – two of them real trees – they all asked if their dad and I had ours up yet. Here’s where tradition number two comes into play.
In our household, our family would trek to a tree farm on the Friday after Thanksgiving and cut down a real Christmas pine tree. A couple of years ago, hubby and I did the unthinkable – we bought an artificial tree! Oh, the horrors of it! Our kids were appalled and still haven’t let us forget that we broke the beloved tradition of pine needles all over the floor.
After responding back and assuring them that their trees were absolutely beautiful (and they were!), I told them we actually had put ours up that same day. Their dad (after some grumbling and fussing with lights that wouldn’t work) strung the twinkle lights around the artificial branches, but then we lost motivation for adorning it with the scads of ornaments we’ve collected over the years.
Oh yeah, that’s another tradition. Every year since oldest daughter was born, we have purchased an ornament for each of our children, many of those they chose themselves. My thought process was that when they moved out or got married, they would then have a box of their own Christmas adornments to take with them.
We also have ornaments from our vacation travels, so the result is that for 28 years, we’ve had a hodge-podge tree with, shall we say, an eclectic assortment of ornaments. No beautiful theme trees for us at least not yet. I’m fairly certain that part of my reason for not trimming the tree now is because I’m a little stymied about how I want to decorate it this year.
But I digress. After telling the kids that the tree was up, lit, but not adorned, I’ve received a couple “scoldings” from them. First came this text message from son: “I didn’t realize that Scrooge and the Grinch were my parents.”
He’s a character, that one. We can always count on him to crack us up with some joke, or silly enactment, or something just plain witty. Of course, I had to text him back and ask which one of us was which. His reply informed me that his dear ol’ dad had to be the Grinch because he is hairier. (Well, thank you son for that one, at least!) Naturally I answered, “Bah, humbug!”
The next day, middle daughter left us a message on the home phone. She had a question for me, but then after her usual “I love you, call me” sign off came this afterthought, “You better get busy and get that tree decorated!!”
I’m seriously considering leaving the tree as it is just to see what their reactions would be when they come home for Christmas, but I’m hesitant because I think it would really freak them out!
Yet another tradition we have is decorating the outside of the house a certain way – red lights on all the shrubs, white lights outlining the porch roof and around the garage, white candle lights and wreaths in all the front windows, spotlight on the front door.
Tradition says we should already have this all accomplished and our lighting display should be ramping up our electric bill by now. But our house is dark and our neighbors probably wonder if we took off for Florida or something! By now, the snow and extreme cold with wind chill factored in is acting as a huge deterrent to getting that light display arranged. Oops, another tradition may go down the tube.
Inside the house, the traditions continue. There are certain holiday decorations that have stood the test of time at our place. Christmas stockings must be hung on the family room fireplace mantle. Our collection of nutcrackers must line up in formation somewhere. Ditto for the snowmen. The nativity scene also must find a spot to shine.
And then there’s the Christmas village. What a time-consuming job that is putting up all those little houses, people, trees, etc. I’ve already relegated the Christmas village boxes to the basement. This year the village is in hibernation. I’m also seriously considering a minimal decorating job inside these four walls.
The food we serve at our house for Christmas dinner is yet another tradition that should be preserved, according to my young adults. Baking cookies together is another. When the kids were all still at home, we would spend an entire day baking and decorating dozens of cookies and then wrapping up containers of the goodies to be delivered to friends, neighbors and family.
But this year, I’ve been too busy at work and too tired when I get home to even begin thinking about holiday baking. (Don’t tell anyone, but I bought some of that ready to bake Christmas cookie dough! I know, scandalous!!)
I have been contemplating preparations for Christmas dinner and mentally starting a grocery shopping list. Dare I change the menu this year? Not a wise idea. I don’t want a mutiny on my hands on Christmas Day. There are some traditions that just shouldn’t be trifled with. And that reminds me, I better remember to buy that mint chocolate chip ice cream for our traditional Christmas Eve sundaes!
All’s quiet on the western front. Hubby and I live in the western part of the homeland and we were spared the gargantuan snow storm that blew through our neighboring states.
The most soothing thing to me is a cup of hot, steaming tea.
