Christmas in transition

I'm back in Norman after a very nice Christmas weekend with family in Texas. Thanks to all who joined along in singing (and playing) songs of the season! And oh the food and smiles and hugs and love. Sweet music of life -- to hear it, to share it and to praise God for it. It was our first Christmas without Daddy physically among us on Earth. There still weren't any public tears that I was aware of, and not much discussion of our thoughts since Daddy's passing. To me, it seems people would rather not talk about it. I was aware we didn't do a family picture. No one mentioned it that I heard. I thought of it but didn't want to be the one to bring it up. I do have a sense that late August was our Christmas, and we took lots of pictures then. As I prepared for the weekend, one of the things I tried to recall was what our mindset as a family was last year. It was after Daddy's lung surgery. As far as we knew, the surgery was a success and he was cancer-free. I think the sense was overwhelming gratitude that he had come through everything so well and that we were together for another Christmas as a family. All of the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren were there. I don't recall any thoughts that it might be our last Christmas together, other than just as part of our fresher reality that we won't all be here forever. And then when the 3-6 months prognosis after an inoperable liver cancer diagnosis came in last August, it still seemed hard to fathom Daddy wouldn't be here this Christmas. That was still the case for me the first week of October. But by the last week of October, it was clear that God's, and Daddy's, gift to the family would be for Daddy's suffering to end and our new reality to begin. And for me, some of what Christmas is all about was stronger in my heart, knowing that God's gift of His son is why we don't have to fear death -- our own or those of our loved ones who put their faith in Him. Daddy was certainly in good company for his first Christmas in heaven. Anyway, I'm still trying to find my way on when and where it is appropriate to really talk much about Daddy and honor his memory. Among ways today: Memorial donations and words on a blog. Meanwhile, life goes on. I was grateful to attend the Christmas Eve communion and candlelight service at Whaley in Gainesville with Gene, Mom and Amy. Then Gene and I went to McKinney to spend the night and Christmas Day with Gene's sister, Mae, and her son, Michael, joined later by his significant other, her son and their hyper chihuahuas. And somehow there was still time for a Christmas night visit to see Mom and those staying at her house. And of course Monday with Mom and my siblings and their families and extended family and friends is always time to treasure that ends too soon. Grateful for memories -- and pictures! I caroled every chance I got, including on Facebook. I enjoyed that we did sing Christmas songs -- spiritual and seasonal -- before opening presents Monday. I don't know what I expected for this Christmas. I know it turned out good. God's presence seems more real to me than ever. I pray to live in a way that I never lose that. Happy birthday, Jesus. Thank you, God. I pray to reflect Your love and live to Your glory.

Christmas in January

It's the second weekend of January, and I'm still celebrating Christmas. I guess that's what happens when you try to find the silver lining in whatever life brings.

Yesterday I watched the DVD of the Texas Rangers landmark season as the American League champions. It was a Christmas present that had to be shipped late. It was fun to watch and to appreciate my nephew for getting it for me. Today, another shipment of presents came, including a fascinating coffee-table book with writings and photographs of art masterpieces inspired by the Bible. And then there's my iPhone, which I guess I effectively traded in the camera to get! (I was going to get the iPhone anyway, but now that I have it, the camera can wait, or so it seems.)

Tomorrow, I'm singing a Christmas song at church. I debated all week whether it would be OK to do so late, and I've decided, with some encouragement from family and friends, that it is OK. I didn't have a chance to sing special music during December. And the message of what happens at Christmas isn't just for Christmas. As I've practiced, I've enjoyed being reminded that "love came down ... chains (are) broken ... songs of hope (ring) through the skies ... A Father calls through a gift of life ...."

Continued celebrations of Christmas seem fitting in a week of days in which I've tried to find blessed gifts in new and sometimes trying circumstances.

My body and mind and home life still aren't crazy about my new work schedule, but they're all glad I have a job and that, so far, I've been able to keep a good attitude and get started on developing a good routine. Right now, though, it also seems like work when I'm home, because I have to keep a pretty tight schedule if I want to get anything done at all. I still have no sense of passage of time between when I get up and when I go to work. I'm more accustomed to work (or church) being the first order of business each day. It's strange to have time to do so many other things first ... and tempting to not be ready when all of a sudden it's time to actually go to work. Meanwhile, my husband and I have made the most of maximizing some of our time together. That's been good. I think we both realize we had taken for granted the great schedules and work flexibility we'd had these past 28 or so years.

Being scheduled to allow me to attend choir practice on Wednesdays is every bit the gift I thought it would be. Choir members were glad to see me, and I was more appreciative to be there than perhaps I had been before. Again, it's amazing how easy it is to take things for granted. It's also interesting to me that, as important as The Seeking Hour at 7 a.m. Wednesdays had seemed to me, I'm not really upset to give that up. I do hope to continue to include aspects of that prayer discipline in my week if not my daily routine.

Friday, I visited a friend in the hospital. I'm not sure I would have done that with the old work schedule. I think my visits with my dad during his recovery from lung surgery last fall also impressed upon me the importance of such visits. Even though my friend could not speak or clearly acknowledge he knew who I was, I felt much hope and continue to pray it's just a matter of time before a breakthrough leads to a strong surge of recovery.

Yesterday and today, the sun shone brightly. That's always a gift in January, even when potentially nasty weather more typical of the season is in the immediate forecast. I'm grateful for every sunny day -- and grateful for insulated outerwear, warm clothes, heaters, a car that runs, etc., on the days when the weather isn't so bright.

Today is a gift. Life is a gift. Gratitude is a gift. Love is a gift. Blessed by all of these and more each moment from God, how can I not feel the joy of Christmas all these days later? Thank You, God. And I'm reminded that the way to most fully experience these gifts is to share them. I pray to do so, to God's glory.

Great gifts of the season

I'm glad I listened past the almost too country and too cute Christmasy songs at the start of Point of Grace's new Christmas CD, "Home for the Holidays," to get to some with messages and/or arrangements that gave my spirit a lift.

One of my favorites, both for the words and the way they are delivered, is "Immanuel." I couldn't find a transcript of the lyrics, but this is the first verse and chorus:

No decorations, no tree with tinsel, no lights this year at home
The rooms are silent, no carols play.
It's the first time she is all alone.
But what a wonder; she says there's comfort ...
Immanuel: Our God is with us.
Yes, He is with us still.
Immanuel. He has not left us, and He never will.

It's about people facing the festive season with emptiness, loss and heartache; the broken and lost. It seems I'm aware of more people than ever in those kinds of situations. Some, as in the first verse, remind themselves, and others need to be reminded that even in those circumstances, God is with them. And His people, including me, can help be that reminder.

Is it that simple? Does understanding and remembering that God is with us, whatever comes our way, really make a difference? Does sharing that message with someone else by taking time to call, visit or help, really make a difference? Well, it did today. It did last Sunday. In fact, it has daily. Just thinking of the reality that God is with me really does make a difference.

Joy to the world. The Lord has come. And He is still here!

What a gift! And, as the final song on that CD reminds me, what a Gift-giver. For indeed, God is the Giver and the Gift. Not only on one holy night, but always. May I always be grateful. May I rejoice and sing. And may I share that gift!