Christmas Reflections

Being immigrants to Missouri, indigenous to Indiana, we have travelled for almost every Christmas of our wedded bliss, with the exceptions of the year when all (5) of the children had chicken pox, and a year or two where we stayed for Christmas itself but drove home immediately after (which does not count). Some time in the last two years it has begun to dawn on me that we are too many to visit cold places with small houses for longer than a few hours. We've stayed at a hotel the last couple times,which is a stretch with 10 kids, and does not feel like Christmas.

So this year, we stayed home.

Really, really staying home. Not going this afternoon, or tonight, or early tomorrow morning. Not going for New Year's. Staying. Put.

But packing for a road trip has been part of Christmas for so long, I have had a hard time shirking that perceived responsibility. I feel like I need to pack, to have everything ready to leave behind for days on end, like I have an unanswered stress that I am ignoring but is sure to bite me in the butt any moment.

On the other hand, we have really just focused on our own 'little' family this year, and I must say, it is delightful. We were deliberate about what we bought, what we ate, and how we spent our time. Sigh.

For example, we had a (for us) Grand Christmas Eve Banquet. We used our Christmas dishes, for the first time. There are only eight, so not everyone got one, but it was still festive. We used our silver table service that we received as a wedding gift and almost never get out. It was the last time we will have enough, unless we supplement, as we have 12 place settings, and next Christmas there will be 14 of us. We put the entire setting by each plate also, which was a new experience for all my people, who I mostly require a choice of 'fork or spoon' for each meal. The Dave Show, who is three, ate only mashed potatoes, but used every single utensil to do it.

No hurry to unwrap, no hurry to clean up, no place to go, no one to see or please. Get out each game, each toy, each new project. Each person's special gift a success: Anne's electric experiment set, Claire's djembe, Ben's Ticket To Ride game, Joel's pipe cleaners and needle nose pliers.

Mary learned in one present the joy of opening one and grieved the rest of the morning that they were not all for her. Each gift was exciting for exactly 2.6 seconds. We WILL, next year, elaborately wrap stuff we already have for whoever is 1.

Each year we (mostly I) write a letter from Santa to each or all of our children. This started as a thank you note for the cookies when I grew up. My Dad always wrote the letters. I still have them. They were a once a year praise report, Angela, I'm so proud of you, you're doing a great job with school, swimming, music, whatever, your mom and dad love you very much, keep Jesus as the center of your life, I see you have a new driver's license or keyboard or engagement ring . . . That sort of thing.

So we have done a similar thing. I don't know if it has meant much to any of our kids yet. But this year as Dad read it, each child lit up when he said their name. It was pretty cool.

My gifts were both replacements for something I already had and broke, practical kitchen things, but my real present is Leah, our newly adopted daughter. I held her most of the morning, tearing up at times, still in so much disbelief that my Father has allowed me to be her mama. She is the sweet spot in my family, the treasure I barely dared believe I could have.

Even today, I am aware of the marvelous young woman who not only gave birth to her in incredibly difficult circumstances, but then chose to selflessly give her what she believed was the very best life for her. Such an honor for us. Such a burden, but I will not carry it alone. Each day, I will offer my amazing daughter to the One who formed her in her mama's womb. Each day I will lift both mama and daughter to Him for His care and protection.

At this time of year, I am always aware of what Mary may have gone through, carrying a Baby that was unplanned, by the world certainly deemed unwanted. But she said YES to God, in a way that I hope is similar to the way I have said YES. I know the world, family, friends, do not always see my YES as wise or responsible. Especially now, having brought a baby into our family in a nontraditional way, at great cost, with another baby on the way, and then to learn that he/she might be an especially undesirable to the world kind of baby, the kind that so many would find appropriate to choose not to have, especially now, I think about Mary, and Joseph, and Jesus, and the shame and foolishness they might have felt.

But I am nestled here. I don't know what God will do with me. I hope that even if no one is drawn nearer or changed, if my children don't choose to serve Him the same way, if I am only ever a fool in the eyes of all man, that I may at least give honor to His Name.

I love Christmas because at the moment of the fullness of the wretchedness of man's decision to be his own god, when the world was completely desperate for an Answer, that God sent It in the most unlikely Form to the most unlikely host in the most unlikely place and told the most unlikely people about it. The Christ left all power, all glory, all authority, all knowledge, all wisdom, all honor and became a Baby, born to a young, unmarried but betrothed woman in a shameful way, in a podunk town in an animal shelter, laid in a cow's cereal bowl. The angel and then angels gave a great symphonic heaven-sized proclamation to the stinky dirty reputation-less shepherds (who would listen to them?). Really, this is the Desire of Nations? Really, this is the Peace we've been waiting for? Really, This is the One creation has been groaning for? That's all You've got? No wonder the pharisees were thrown off.

I'm an underdog like that. I am not polished, my hair is gray, I don't wear make up, I hate shopping so most of my clothes are hand me downs. My children also are not stellar performers. We are not impressive, as a lot. We are not winning spelling bees or other academic contests. We are not setting athletic records.

I'm trying to teach my children to be kind, to obey, to know God, to hear His voice, to work hard when they don't feel like it, to value people more than things, to be good stewards of themselves and their stuff, to care for the weaker and smaller. Trying. I'm not even doing a great job of it.

My daily list of good intentions is mighty, my corresponding list of things accomplished is feeble at best. How does the King of the universe find my offering pleasing, how does He call me lovely and faithful? I HAVE NO IDEA.

But I am confident of this one thing: that He Who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it. And since He has walked here, and been there and done that (He had a set of 12 to disciple, just like me), I feel safe in trusting Him with me, with them.