An update on that meaningful little Christmas…

Dear reader,

You may recall my stated goal to “have myself a meaningful little Christmas.”  Well, grab a Christmas cookie and a comfy chair. Here’s the rest of the story. 

Had you asked me how it was going this past Sunday, I would’ve said everything was right on track and progressing nicely. (Insert your favorite quote about the best laid plans.)

The day before my extended family had gathered at my parents’ house, or at least as many as could make the date work. We had laughed, made merry, and documented the moment with a family snapshot that looked straight out of a Griswold movie. The super model in the front does it for me. You go, Uncle Rod.  

 

 

I was still coasting on those sweet Saturday memories as our own kids and grandkids began arriving Sunday afternoon for days of highly anticipated Christmas festivities. I was oh, so, prepared. All my traditional Christmas treats were stirred up and waiting in their pretty little tins, while the pantry and fridge held further goodness I intended to create over the next few days. (I was also trying to ignore the arrival of a bad headache and a few cold symptoms, but I’m getting ahead of myself.)

It’s impossible to say who was the most excited, me or the grands. The first thing they wanted to see (and the first thing I wanted to show them) was how their Christmas presents were wrapped this year. Many of you will remember that each year I decorate their gifts into a “theme”. This year was Pops and Keggie’s Cocoa House. Do zoom in for it. Each grand had their own cup of cocoa decorated with their monogram and topped with marshmallows floating in chocolate (fur), peppermint straws, multi-colored sprinkles– and a brand new 2022 twist to up the ante. Their marshmallow boxes each held clues that would send the big kids on a scavenger hunt to find their presents once the gift exchange began on Day Two. If you’re thinking that probably got a little crazy, you’re correct. But, at least I was still on my feet for it.

 

 

On the morning of Day Three reality hit. I could no longer pretend to be well. The Oscar would have to go to someone else. I felt sure a big truck had ran me down, backed up over my aching bones, and spun out for good measure. No!!!! We were supposed to decorate gingerbread cookies! We were supposed to have my bestie and her grands over for a huge blowout. We were supposed to do… all sorts of things… none of which included an early morning doctor visit and a positive flu test.

From that point on, I was relegated to the couch, propped up, bundled down, and quarantined from hugging on the grands. Granted, everyone here had been exposed, but wisdom dictated keeping them at a distance. The afternoon party with friends, cancelled. Ditto the family pictures. 

Have yourself a meaningful little Christmas…

There it was again. The same sweet heavenly invitation I had heard early in November. The gentle spin of those famous lyrics that had prompted me to write our advent devotional were back, calling to me. The invitation stood, and I accepted, again. 

From a vantage point I would never have chosen, I continued to pursue a meaningful little Christmas. 

I gave thanks as I listened to my daughter take over my kitchen like the champ she is. I try so hard to let Jessica go on vacation when she gets here, to let her escape from all the mommy duties of her own house. Instead, she had to pick up all the slack of mine. And she did it with grace and excellence. 

“Just tell me what you planned to have today,” she said. And then she set out to make it happen with a smile on her beautiful face, embracing more cooking, serving, and cleaning, with nary a complaint. 

More of that same type of beautiful blessing arrived when Phillip’s family showed back up for the day and my precious daughter-in-law Carey joined Jessica at the helm. Together they prepared meals and headed up the great gingerbread decorating party, and from the sounds of all the laughter that floated to the great room, a marvelous time was had by all.

 

 

I wanted to take it all in, but my body was demanding sleep and I found myself dozing despite my best efforts, which is where the sweetest part of this story is found.

Every single time I opened my eyes, I discovered grace drops of a meaningful Christmas surrounding me. I didn’t get a choice on being relegated to the sidelines of my own party, but I did get to choose what to do with the new circumstances, and I determined to take it all in and marinate in the goodness. I enjoyed the low hum of Jessica and Carey’s conversation coming from the kitchen as they worked, and the excited voices of the hunters with their brand new stories as they made plans for all the fresh meat.

 

 

Some of my most treasured moments were the many times I found a grandchild standing at the established boundary wearing a commiserating smile and asking if I needed anything.  KenKen the Baby Friend, who is fast outgrowing her nickname, couldn’t understand this new Keggie, but she, too, would wander as close as they’d let her to ask me over and over, “You o’tay?”

 

 

And then, night fell and brought with it the sweetest of surprises from my bestie, Rhonda Perry. Cancelling our big blended family party had made both of us sad, but because “G” (that’s her grandmother name), knows a thing or two about pivoting towards gratitude herself, she showed up with her man and her grands to sing carols to us, lakeside.  Did I cry? Absolutely! I’m crying again as I type this out. But it’s happy tears. That woman is such a blessing! I see Jesus in the gift of her friendship. 

 

 

And now, the house is calm. These two precious grown kids of ours have returned to their own homes for Christmas, and I’ve just found the strength to type this story out in the last few hours.  

 

 

It’s Christmas Eve and it’s back to just me and the Beloved Farmer. We’ll see in town family at some point tomorrow, and we’ll call the out of town grands with Christmas greetings, but for now, it’s just the two of us. And you know what? We are o’tay with that. We plan to continue having a meaningful little Christmas, and we can, because our eyes are fixed on the miracle that is Immanuel, God with Us.

In closing, please know I am deeply aware that many who will read these words have sore hearts and challenging circumstances that dwarf a bout with the flu. I am praying for you. God loves you, so. If you haven’t opened your heart to His perfect Christmas gift, Jesus the Messiah, there is truly no time like the present. Merry Christmas from our house to yours.

Hugs,
Shellie