Day Twenty 2016

Tonight we went to Christmas Eve service and Pastor Kent said the twelve days of Christmas start tomorrow, so I figure I am off the hook for not making it to 25 days on target.  I have till Epiphany, and I heard from Kent who surely heard it from Jesus. 

My favorite part of the Christmas eve service is the children’s pageant, where the youngest children enact the nativity story.  It is an exercise in chaos.  Regardless of how prepared Kristin is, the play is like herding cats, and never seems to go the way it was planned. That is what I love about it.  

Tonight I thought the show was stolen by a little girl I thought was portraying a sheep.  She vigorously flapped her arms and nodded her head throughout the performance.  I thought maybe she was an angel, but the angels all had halos and wings.  I even asked Matthew, he said she was a sheep, and he had no idea why the sheep was flapping her arms.

As it turns out, she was a dove, which was confirmed by the children’s minister afterwards.  She was an excellent dove, and her performance makes so much more sense with that bit of information.  I blame the costume department.

After it was over my boys recalled when they had their turns as shepherds.  My Paul recalled that the year he got to dress up, none of the children’s costumes fit him. So they gave him a sheet, and a head wrap.  He looked like a shepherd until the head wrap he was tugging at came off and then pretty much he was a 10 year old in stripped sheet.

Children’s Christmas pageants? Always bring me joy.

Day Six 2016

Here it is December 11th and I am only on the 6th day.  It is a struggle this year, but I am not giving up.  And I have a plan to get caught up.  I really do.

Today is the third Sunday of Advent.  The Sunday of Joy.  I am looking for joy, I really am.  I am thankful for our pastor Kent for pointing out this morning that joyful and happy are not the same thing. Lucky for me.

So today these vintage Christmas cards bring me some joy.  I am especially fond of the ones with dogs.  They remind me of the scotties; Scudder and Zandor MacFerguson my mom and dad had when I was little   What circumstances brought my parents to owning registered scotty show dog I have no idea.

Day Three 2016

Last week I told a friend I was feeling haunted.  I’m walking through this holiday season and everywhere I’m feeling the presence of people I have known and that are now gone.  This feeling of melancholy is not unfamiliar, it just hurts that there are so many recent losses.  I talked about Geraldine yesterday, but there is also my cousin Chris who passed this summer, and the losses my friends have experienced this year, Heather’s father, Tammy’s mom, Renee’s dad, Amy & Erica’s grandfather, and on and on.

These are not my losses, I am not the person most affected by these peoples absence. But I am carrying around sorrow for the people who are.   

I don’t want this to be one of those Christmases.  I know there is Joy, and there is Hope, and I am looking it.  I think about my Mom, and I can hear her voice saying “I know”, but what I don’t hear is her telling me what to do, how to fix this.

I’ve been reading Rumi tonight.  Maybe a 13^th Century Sunni Muslim Sufi mystic poet and theologian isn’t the best way to find my back to some ‘Christmas Joy’ but it is helping me find some peace.

Be grateful for whatever comes.

Because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

Sounds too much like ‘this is all preordained’ or ‘God has a plan’ and to be honest I never find comfort there.

So maybe all there is tonight it this; My Mother often told me, “when you are thirsty have a drink of water.” Meaning it is ok to feel what you are feeling in the moment, that it is ok to honor that and then let it go.

I’ve got the feeling it in the moment down pretty good, but I am struggling, really struggling to find a way to let that go.

Tap Tap Tap for Joy

Today was the 3^rd Sunday of Advent, Rose Sunday, the Sunday of Joy, so I wish you Joy.

Today our children’s choir and what my Matthew calls the “little kids choir” aka the nursery choir sang in the service.  I love, Love LOVE when the children perform during the worship, because you never know what will happen. And something unexpected always happens.

When my Paul was in grade school they used to have their performances on Wednesday night.  I think the first year he was in choir was the year his buddy Aaron kept pulling his turtleneck up and showing the crowd his belly, I mostly missed that because Paul was so nervous he couldn’t stop scratching his head, both hands vigorously scratching his head during the whole performance, as though he had flees.  For the record, he did not have flees. We had him checked. (Ok I am kidding, he has pretty bad eczema, and once he starts scratching, he can’t stop). 

I don’t remember if it was that year or the next year that my Matthew was in the little kids choir and only he Gracie showed up so they choir teachers elected not to have them perform. Those two were so MAD. Gracie was just going to get up and sing a song of her own composition, and Matthew suggested he could just get up and break dance.  I am not sure how Miss Kristin talked them out of that. I often regret that she did.  There is no telling what we would have gotten to watch.

So today, when the little kids got on stage, of course they forgot what they had practiced just a few minutes before, so there was plenty of herding those littles into place.  Just before they started singing, one of the little girls banged the hard heel of her dress shoe on the wood stage.  It made a nice loud tap dancing style noise.  You should have seen the smile on her face.  I imagine her inner dialogue went something like this “Wow I like that noise, it was loud.  Did anyone else hear that noise?  Let me try that again and see… Why is Miss Kristin making that sour face at me? I am just going to keep making this loud noise with my shoe while we sing it is so much fun!” When the singing was over she banged her heel a few more times, just for funsies.

So far this was the best Sunday morning service this Christmas season.

Joy and Delight

Today was the second Sunday of advent, so I wish you peace.

This morning in Sunday school as Sandy and I were starting the lesson, (you do know I teach Sunday school right? In the nursery where the usual lessons are #1 Jesus loves you, #2 do not pee on Mister Judson), Sandy says today’s lesson is about Zechariah. I was a little foggy on Zechariah, I mean just a few weeks ago we had Balam’s talking donkey so you never know.  I asked if Zechariah was the old dude who waited at the temple like forever for Jesus to be born.  But no, it turns out Zechariah was the father of John the Baptist and the husband of Elizabeth.

So the story is about how Zechariah was an old guy, a really old guy, well past his prime, and an angel shows up and tells him he is going to be a father.  Actually what he says was ““Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John. He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth”

Have you ever wondered why the angels always show up and say “Do Not Be Afraid?” I mean maybe the angels could try a little less sneaking up and surprising people? Or maybe the word got around after the angel wrestled that one dude all night and busted his hip.  So no wonder people were scared, they thought the John Cena of the angelic host might show up and bust their hip.  But, I digress.

Here is the part I like, the angel said “he will be a joy and a delight to you”.  This was John the Baptist they were talking about, a man who earned his fame for eating honey and crickets and wearing goat fur in the desert. (you know, other than the whole baptizing people and preparing the way for Jesus). Sounds delightful right? But again, that is not really the point.

The angel said Zechariah’s son would be a joy and a delight.  My boys gave me lots of joy and delight until they learned to talk.  It has been a struggle since then.  But sometimes, I get glimmers of joy and delight.  This week I mentioned on facebook that I found all my serving utensils for the Christmas party.  What I did not mention was that they were in the back of one of the silverware drawers all together.  When Matthew organized the kitchen drawers he put them there.  I asked if he did it so we would know where they were when it was party time, but he had another reason.  Paul does not like eating with real silver silverware, the doesn’t care for that metallic taste in his mouth, so Matthew basically sequestered all the silver silverware in the back of the drawer so no one grabs it by mistake.  He did this without prompting, or request, but just because he was thinking of his brother.

When I picked Paul up at midnight from work and brought him home tonight he was making plans for the Christmas party. Big plans. Secret plans that you will have to wait to find out.  In addition to that we were discussing that this week we need to buy him another pair of black pants for work since he is down to only one pair.  He announced that he was planning on using his own money for that, and that he figured he would buy Matthew a pair of pants too.  Again, not prompted or requested, but just because he was thinking of his brother.  That gives me great joy and delight.  

not so silent night

I did not post an entry last night.  I know this is worrisome because last year I failed spectacularly and only did 19 days.  I am not talking about that yet.  The truth is last night when we got home I was worn out and went straight to bed.   My plan is to post twice today. Let’s see how that goes.

Last night was the children’s Christmas party at church.  This is what Kathleen had to say about it.

Merry, tired, but Merry! …merriment is a gaggle of Sunday school children making 'gingerbread' nativity scenes with marshmallow sheep and tootsie roll donkeys. They consumed more chocolate frosting than they applied as mortar on their graham cracker stables. They were loud. They made crafts and followed stars around church seeking the manger. They wore me out...merrily. I can still smell the chocolate. It might be in my hair. Chocolate smeared kiddos ...merry.

Here is what I know, there were about 200 children last night, age 1 to 12.  Also there were 30 monkeys, 15 donkeys, 8 hyenas, 4 elephants, 2 clowns and a partridge in a pear tree.  To say it was loud is like saying close is a lingerie store without windows. 

Kathleen’s project was to build life sized mangers out of graham graham crackers held together with a chocolate butter cream, the wishes and dreams of children, and angel kisses.  No easy task when those 300 children were just as likely to pipe the chocolate butter cream into their mouths as they were to use it as mortar to hold the structures together. Then there was coconut to use as straw, I am not going to lie, I am judging the kids who refused to use the coconut.  Where is baby Jesus going to sleep? On the cold hard ground? Santa is probably going to bring them coal.

Then there was some other crafting with marshmallows and black licorice.  You know who likes black licorice? No one. Well. Maybe those dwarves who live under the front porch, but they also like earwax so I don’t exactly value their taste palates.

Following the edible nativities (because who doesn’t love eating caramel donkeys and peanut butter cup angels?) there was a plastic perler bead and pam spray craft. Have you ever made bowls with 400 children?  Unless you are Karen McWilliams I don’t think you have.  It really made a bowl, although I was doubtful the whole time. Following that there was a ‘follow the star’ activity where all 500 children traipsed through the church looking for stars and loudly calling the names of their favorite bible characters. “On Dasher” “On Dancer” “On Zayn” “On Liam”.  Seriously I think someone needs to talk to whomever teaches Sunday school to these children.

At the end of the star search it was narrowed down to two finalists. The bad boy with a heart of gold versus the girl with a voice of an angel. Wait, no, wrong story, at the end of the search was a giant nativity set up in the star room with glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.  I told the children that the straw in the nativity was coconut.  Have you ever eaten straw? Well I know 20 or so kids who have.  Good news is no one was allergic.

Finally, FINALLY, all 600 children went upstairs to the WOW room to watch a video. It was the only time all night that it was finally quiet. I love quiet children…ok, truth Is I love loud children too, but wow were these kids loud.  When the parents came to get their precious bundles it felt like it must be 2 am or something, but no…only 10pm.

Kat and I had given our boys a choice between coming and helping or going to the movies.  I am as shocked as the rest of you that the boys opted to go to the movies.  The boys second movie wasn’t done till 11:45pm so we went and had adult beverages and late dinner while we waited.  It was so quiet in the restaurant.  Sigh, a mini Christmas miracle.

The Christmas Miracle - Day 22

Party Day.

Today is our party. I haven’t written as much about the party this year as in previous years. I am looking forward to it, but I struggle. This year we are having the party back in OKC, at the Fireman’s Hall. It is a great way to see our friends and family and be together, but because it is not in our home, it feels different to me. I realize this may just be my issue. Instead of dwelling on that, I am going to share another party memory with you. 

In 1997 Kat was very pregnant with Paul. We still planned on having our party and were looking forward to the preparation involved. Also, my Mom and sister Jenni were coming for Christmas. They couldn’t make it for the party, but would be there a few days later. As usual, all that last minute preparation was taking its toll and I was struggling to get the house ready the Friday before the party. In the midst of my chaos there was a knock on the door. I knew without looking, without opening the door, or without any hint, I knew that when I opened the door my Mom and Jenni would be there. Sure enough they were.

They had decided to surprise us so they drove through the night from whatever national park Jenni was working at so that they could be there at the party. They were an absolute surprise and so helpful in the preparations. That was not the only surprise that year. Brian and Kathy Gibson had somehow managed to arrange for Brian Stevens to come from Colorado to be at the party as well. So we had double surprises that year.

So as Kat and the boys and I are preparing for our party today, my wish for everyone is that amazing feeling I had when I opened the door to find my Mom and sister standing there. That excitement and surprise beyond words. Happy party day everyone.

Christmas time in 10-sel town. . .

Some Christmas moments are orchestrated and some just happen. Our Christmas party is something that just happened, that now has become something that requires a lot of orchestration, but that is another story. Last night’s Christmas moment just happened.

Last Monday Matthew and I put up the tree. Paul wanted to help, but he had homework that was taking too long. After we got the tree up and the lights on, we waited to do the ornaments until everyone could participate. Tuesday night was haircuts, so we didn’t decorate. Wednesday night IT was 6 before I left the office and there was more homework. Thursday night Matthew had a drum performance and Paul had a youth party at church. Last night was another church event, but when we got home I was determined to make this happen.

The boys helped me bring the ornaments up from the basement, but then Paul disappeared while Matthew hung ornaments. I finally got Paul to come back and the tree was half decorated. We finished decorating the tree, Paul put the angel on top, then fighting ensued and Matthew went upstairs in a mood. Sigh. Boys.
Since my Paul was still willing to be involved in something I had him get my train set from the closet. I got this Lionel electric train set when I was a first grader. My 13 year old son, who is taller and broader than I am crawled under the tree and hooked up tracks, then unhooked them and re-hooked them, ran the cord under the tree and helped get the train set up. Then he helped test it, and made adjustments, and then played with it for about half an hour.

I am sorry that my Matthew missed out. But I am not sorry for that sweet interlude where my Paul was still a child, my child, who was having fun. I know that being a teenager is about shedding the child he was and becoming the man he will be, and I am excited about that process. I love the glimpses I see of that man, but I miss that boy, so I am going to hold onto those moments when I get them.

Day Eleven

On the eleventh day of Christmas. . .

Alright, I admit it I actually started writing these the last week of November and I had the first 8 days or so already completed before the 1st so that if I couldn't think of anything I would be ok. Except then I got busy and didn't really stay as far ahead as I planned and I think I only have one or two more days. So we will see how well I do from this point on.

Christmas Eve dinner enchiladas have been a tradition for my family as long as I can remember. When I moved to Arizona with my Mom and Jenni we were already doing it. My Mom’s favorites were her infamous spinach enchiladas. While those were tasty, I know Jenni was not a huge fan. Her complaint was that they tasted like raw spinach and tortillas with cheese and enchilada sauce. This is not an absolutely untrue statement. I am a big fan of Kathleen’s version of Christmas Eve enchiladas. She makes both red and green, and fills them with cheese, onions and chicken, even though her Mom insists that enchiladas do not have meat.

When Jenni and I were still kids living in Tucson, one of our traditions, in addition to the enchiladas and multiple Christmas eve church services was ‘re-hanging’ the tinsel on the tree when my Mom was not around. It was so much more fun to stand back and throw the shiny tinsel at the tree than it was to carefully drape it over the branches, one silver strand at a time. Once the tree was decorated, when Mom wasn’t around we would take the tinsel off the tree and do it our way.

One Christmas Eve Jenni and I were ‘re-hanging’ tinsel in the living room while Mom was in her room wrapping presents. We were supposed to be finishing our enchiladas, but we had brought our plates in from the kitchen and had set them on the couch while we were busy with the tree. We had Mom’s old Firestone Christmas albums playing on the record player, (sort of like an old school cd player that involved needles, for those born after 1980).

We were dressed for church and were probably minutes away from leaving for a candlelight service. That year Jenni had a red velvet skirt that my Dad’s mom had made for her. Jenni loved it because Grandmother made it, and also because when she spun around the skirt twirled out really big. So there we were listening to Christmas tunes, throwing tinsel, and Jenni was spinning around in the living room, making it merry and bright.

Eventually the noise level got a little too loud and Mom came back into the living room. Jenni was mid spin when Mom walked in so she immediately went from spinning to flopping down on the couch. I am sure her intent was to declare her innocence in the whole affair and pin the blame on me. It might have had better results had she not sat down on her plate of enchiladas.

Guess what does not come easily out of red velvet? Red enchilada sauce, that is what.

When Mom stopped laughing she helped Jenni clean up the mess and after Jenni had changed into jeans Mom asked what had we learned from this experience.
I went with the safe bet of ‘not to eat dinner in the living room’, after discarding ‘not to throw tinsel at the tree’ and ‘no turning the record player up past 5’. Jenni said ‘don’t put your butt in your dinner plate if that is the last serving of enchiladas’

Let that be a lesson to all of us this year.