It's been a different kind of Christmas this year.
We moved away from the hectic pace of overwhelming Christmas activities, and the frantic race to get “everything” done some years ago. I have enjoyed so much just soaking in the sights and sounds of the season without all of the crazy, just treasuring up memories and experiences with family and friends, sitting in front of a simple tree with a special Christmas mug full of coffee, and adoring my Savior for His immeasurable Gift.
But "the Christmas Quiet" went to a whole new level this year. I was surrounded by the quiet hum of hospital sounds, with Roger's mom, part of where her ongoing care has brought us these recent years. I found myself longing for a bit of "crazy". It was as if Christmas was slowly passing me by and I was missing it! No baking. No shopping. No gatherings. Not just less, but none! It was a little eerie. And irritating. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve!
As the very long day and even longer night wore on, all I could do was think of being separated from my husband for Christmas; not being able to see my own mom spending this first Christmas in her grief without my Daddy; not baking and cooking, and entering into the happy Christmas banter and antics of the grandkids; enjoying a ride in the neighborhood to see the lights, missing the beautiful and moving Christmas Eve candlelight service. No, just silence, and that hospital hum.
But oh the wonder of holy hush, when Jesus slips into the quiet places of the yearning heart and meets the need, even in a dark, moon-lit hospital room. A devotion from earlier in the week surfaced in my thoughts.
"Let us not attach ourselves to His gifts,
but to Himself. And when He plunges us
into the night of pure faith, let us still press
on through the agonizing darkness."
Herbert Booth, Streams in the Desert
As the night crept toward morning I rejoiced that His gifts are many, beginning with the gift of Himself that first Christmas. He gave Himself. And He was so good to show Himself to be very close and real to me in my moment in some small but significant ways.
Like the Snoopy Christmas doghouse decal on Mom's ICU window. It was the only one on the floor. I love Snoopy, and the Lord used that simple little bit of cheer to assure me I was right where I was supposed to be. Then there was the sign a friend sent a pic of that she found at Kroger. It had my theme for this year on it, like my personal Christmas message, the words from a familiar carol….Comfort and Joy. She lives in another state, but I sent Rog to our local store and they had one! Again, just a little thing but it meant so much.
Yes, a different kind of Christmas, one we weren't expecting, but beautiful just the same. The realization that HE is Christmas was powerfully whispered to me in those moments and I abandoned myself to Him, letting go of my irritation and alone-ness. He filled me with Himself and all His good gifts...peace, hope, wonderful memories of Christmases past, thoughts of my precious family, and friendships I treasure. I wasn't missing Christmas at all.
I had all the Comfort and Joy to be found in Jesus right where I was.
