Merry Christmas!!

I have gotten all that I had wanted for Christmas.

It's an odd feeling.

I wanted my own Christmas tree.

I got one.

A beautiful 4 foot tall artificial white tree. It is decorated with black and red balls, for my Georgia Bulldogs, with a tiny silver topper. It has white lights. And it is beautiful. It makes me happy. It sits on a table under the window and is almost always on.

I wanted a gingerbread house.

So I got one.

I constructed it and then let the boys loose on it. That was not an easy thing for me to do. I really  like to be in control. Of everything. But I let them do it. And it was ok. More than ok, it was good, and fun. And then to my surprise, they called me in there with them because they actually wanted me. That was my favorite part of the whole thing. Then after supper tonight, I let them eat the gingerbread house. Laughter rolling throughout my house as we all took turns biting the roof. It was great.

Yesterday I got to go to my mom's.

We spent the day talking, cooking, cleaning, rushing, decorating and laughing. And all with great joy knowing that at the end of the day, Ed was coming home! (Ed is my beloved step-father who has been away a lot lately. It's for work and he is really doing great things, but we all miss him when he's gone.)

I even got to doing new and exciting at mom's. I was put in charge of putting the lights on the tree. I had never put the lights on the tree. Someone taller with more experience has always put the lights on the tree. But yesterday, I was the tallest. And mom did have to go pick Ed up from the airport.

So I grabbed a strand of lights and went at it. Round and round, five strands of multi colored lights on this fabulous tree. Then came the magic moment. I was going to plug it in and observe the wonder of the tree. Or so I thought. Apparently, there is a wrong way of putting lights on a tree. The wrong way would be when you try to plug them in and notice that you don't have the plug end in your hand. You have the other end. Yes, I strung 5 strands backwards. After getting up out of a bed of fir needles that I had been rolling in while laughing my fool head off, I took down the lights and restrung them. Sean helped decorate the rest and got to put the star on top. We were both very happy!

So that was quality Christmas time with my mother and a fun story to carry with me forever.

Another thing I wanted for Christmas was my family. At Christmas Eve service. At my church. (Malcolm is usually with his dad or we are at someone's house and unable to go.)

And tonight we got to go! I was in a beautiful sanctuary surrounded by people I love. It was even better than I had imagined. I am still glowing and filled with with so many blessed feelings that I'm afraid I'll explode!

The other couple of thing's that I wanted- Christmas morning at my house (I usually do that at mom's), then off to mom's for what is sure to be an amazing dinner, and on Saturday, we are going to Forest's sister's house to do Christmas there (we're usually trying to get them fit into the rest of our two day crazy schedule.)

When I look at it, it doesn't seem like I asked for much, mostly just my family together. No shuffling of kids. No crazy schedules. Doing things our way at our pace. Peacefulness.

I got everything I asked for.

And then some more. When I asked for Christmas, I got all of it. I got the family, I got the tree, I got my gingerbread house, and I got to play with some lights and a tree.

But that's not all I got.

I got an open heart, ready for the season. I got to light up with the joy of my Savior's birth. With an open heart, I was able to feel so much more of everything. Sorrow and happiness. Joy and grief.

So as I start what is sure to be the great adventure of present wrapping, I count my many blessings. I will laugh and be joyous, I'll be too tired to get up in the morning, and I'll enjoy every moment.

Tonight, I say an extra prayer for those who are hurting, and wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

On Being Late

I walked in late to church this morning.

I really hate being late. I get a little panicky when I'm late.

But we were late.

It was a really bad Sunday to be late.

Today was the Christmas Cantata.

It was more crowded in the Sanctuary today than it was on Easter.

And we were late.

The kindly older man who was ushering today helped us find four seats together.

There was only one place left for us.

The front pew of the Sanctuary.

Of course to get there we had to walk in front of the video camera that was recording this Cantata. And in front of about half the church.

I hate being late.

We were doing our best to very quietly sit down.

Didn't happen. We were coughing and sneezing and snuffling, dropping our bulletins, making general nuisances of ourselves.

We can't do anything quietly.

It's not a huge Sanctuary, beautiful, but not big. The riser for the alter is probably only 10 feet from the front pew. In that small, 10 foot area was our music director. And he had to be in a place where he could be seen by all the singing and instrument playing folks.

That put him backed up against the front pew.

Ok. I can handle this.

Knowing that anyone else in the family would accidentally kick the poor man, I went in first.

I slid in, as unobtrusively as possible and then knocked straight into the man. He just looked back at me and smiled.

From my prime seat behind the director, I couldn't see very much. I saw a few altos, and some tenors. I could the young woman playing the cello and a violinist. The French horn, trumpet, and trombone were also in view. But mostly the tails of the director. (He was wearing a formal suit with tails.)

I looked down the pew to see what other unfortunate souls got stuck up in front, and there were the smiling faces of my pastor and the associate minister.

They didn't mind that we were late.

They were just happy to see us.

We had walked in after the announcements and greetings and the other things that happen at the beginning of church, and the program had already started. I missed most of that first song. But every note of every song after that was magical to me.

It's not a big choir, not the most talented. What they did with the music this morning was overwhelming. And I'm sure my expression showed that!

(When we were leaving, the preacher grabbed my hand and wispered in my ear. He told me that he didn't know which he enjoyed more, watching the choir or watching me. He said my face was glowing with the presence of the Lord.)

I felt like a child, being given the most precious gift!

It was the gift of music!

I was awed!

I was truly connected with the Spirit!

I was brought to tears by the beauty of my church.

I still hate being late, but today being late was not the end of the world.

Because, just maybe, God doesn't care if I'm late walking into his house.

He cares that I'm there and that I am moved by his Spirit.