Magical Christmas

There is a different energy that happens when Christmas arrives. Anticipation and ritual play important roles in creating the room for meaning and joy. We look forward to seeing family, some we only see a few times during the year. And, if we are lucky, we can gather as a group with our dearest beloveds all in one place at the same time. This was one of those years. All three of our grown children were home, two with spouses, and our entertaining grandson came to stay together, along with one set of our parents. Air mattresses were spread throughout the rooms, pretty packages were under the tree as it twinkled its’ pretty colored lights. The laughter of our young adults, the gushing of love and attention poured into the toddler, our Lucas, and the fact that everyone treasured being here together… that’s magical for parents. Seeing our family members give one another presents that they picked out exclusively for one another with love and intention—magic. Time around the table with good food and lots of conversation—more magic.

All things considered, I recognize we are fortunate to be in a warm home with blankets and pillows for everyone. There is clean water we make into coffee, tea, and cocoa. There is enough food for everyone to have a full tummy… even with healthy options and special holiday treats. We are able to cook our food, sit in our warmth, focus on one another, with comfortable clothing on our backs. It is not lost on me that these things are all blessings and gifts and are not to be taken for granted. I celebrate that, at this time, our lives can be like this. And, I remember and pray for those who are not experiencing the same.

I am thankful for driving to the grocery store and picking out the good food ingredients to make what we plan. Running through the drive-thru for a chocolate chip peppermint milkshake. Our beautiful real Christmas tree we picked out on a local farm while we smelled their campfire burning. The ornaments we place on it—from kids handcrafts, childhood treasures, special occasion keepsakes, and ones that remind us of special loved ones. The ability to gift one another with tokens of love. Sugar cookies. Being able to take as many photos as we want to document the full occasion. Extra magic.

There is Christmas Eve, with meaningful rituals and experiences that mark a lifetime of shared communion. With fellow pilgrims of our Christian faith, we gather to hear our faith story told and perhaps, witness a nativity. There are Christmas carols that have been a part of our lives since we were tiny. My grannymama taught me to sing “Away in a Manger” for our Christmas Eve services at the church of my childhood. And with my children, we have lighted candles every year while joyfully singing “Silent Night” and “Joy to the World”. We receive the Lord’s Supper, reminding us that God’s love extends from heavenly realms to an animal stall, amidst an oppressed people. His commitment to love and truth led Jesus to his death—and all this to demonstrate how far God will go to meet us in solidarity, wanting to be in relationship with all of creation. This night reminds us that God is with us. Emmanuel. We are never alone. That is good news of great joy—and a lot of holy magic.

Some years have been weirdly different. The year we were living out-of-state as newlyweds and could not come home, causing us to share a solo young married couples Christmas. The year during covid when no parents as well as one son and his wife couldn’t get here, so there were four of us in total. The year when we were worried about Covid so we all met in the garage, spread out, with the door wide open to keep air moving. And, I imagine there will be a year somewhere out there when Dean and I are alone with one another, as our children celebrate and create rituals with their loves.  We have no idea what the future holds. I hope and expect it will contain its’ own goodness.

For now, we gratefully receive the gifts given to us: faith, family, joyful love, generosity, time together. And, yes, the thankfulness that overflows from the magic it all holds. Ever so grateful. 

An American woman thinks about humanizing one another.

Through and through, that’s me. A regular American.

So, why is a neighbor on Facebook saying I should get out of my own country because I have a different political leaning? Why did someone laughingly say they’d be happy to see harm come to me because I don’t vote like them? Why are some saying I don’t belong here if I’m not like them? The rhetoric surrounding politics can easily get offensive and abusive. Oh, I know you don’t think you’re talking about me. It’s just people “like” me. But it is about me…just not written or said specifically with me in mind. Maybe if you could see my face, exchange smiles, and look me in the eyes, you’d see something of who I really am.

Let’s just assume I don’t vote like you. It’s a safe bet that it’s true with close to half of you. And, folks from both ends of the spectrum are equally guilty of dehumanizing those with whom they disagree. If you are belittling the people who aren’t making the same selection as you, there’s a decent chance it’s me you’re talking about. But I am a regular American woman, doing what I need to each day to get by like everyone else. Over the years, I have tried to learn what I can, vote responsibly, pay my taxes, treat people well, enjoy being part of our community, contribute to the overall good.

I was born in the middle of the country in the good ole state of Oklahoma to my parents who were living at Fort Sill where my dad was stationed in the Army. My family comes from North Carolina and Virginia, where I spent most of my years. In elementary school, I loved recess and snack time. In middle school, I went to my first school dance, where we all bore the awkwardness that is a dance with no dancers—No one brave enough to risk embarrassment. In high school, I went to my first concert, singing along and making a fool of myself over Rick Springfield. Yes, I am aware that ages me. I loved biology and hated dressing out for gym, loved walking home with my best friend and hated being bullied by some girl who hardly knew me. American girlhood.

My family went to church where I sang in the youth choir, helped teach Bible school, and spent a huge portion of my time. I’ve been committed to following Jesus since I was twelve and it is still central to who I am.

I’ve been married to a great man for long time. We’ve managed through early days on tight finances, learned the hard way about bouncing checks and using credit cards when you can’t pay them off right away. A lot has been fun, but often it involves hard work. When we brought our first child home, we learned how to grow into parenthood like every parent does. And we wanted to get everything right. How long did it take before we weren’t perfect at it? About as long as it takes anyone else. Our lives have been full… meeting the school bus on dark winter mornings, fixing meals after long days at work, getting everyone clean and in bed to do it all over the next day. We’ve managed leaking pipes, power outages, barfing kids, car trouble, teenage drivers, insurance for teenage drivers… You get the point. It’s been a normal, regular life in America.

Generalizing can allow people to say harsh, cruel things about people they rub elbows with everyday. People they need. People they actually appreciate, but don’t know that’s who they are putting down. People they’re insulting and demonizing without realizing who the face and heart is on the other end of their sneer. It’s sad. It hurts feelings and can make people feel unwelcome in their own neighborhood, hometown, and country. That should never happen. Really. It just shouldn’t.

Honestly, I imagine I’ve said some things that made others feel judged or less accepted without even recognizing it. If it was you, I’m sorry. We can all carelessly blast out our cruel words, strong opinions, and even threats and wishes for hardship so easily when we aren’t face-to-face.

Maybe each of us can take a moment before we spout off or post quick insults and think about the people we meet each day who make life work. Those who provide medical care, fix our food, handle our money, share our roads. They get up and go to bed the same way as everyone else. They don’t have to all vote or think the same to belong here. They are real people—we shop at their store, buy gas at their station, greet them at the counter with a smile, come to them for service, cheer on sports teams with them… we’re in this thing called life together.

What if we commit not to dehumanize people? Please don’t dehumanize me. I’ll try to remember you’re a regular person, too. Regular Americans who agree or don’t agree, but still regular Americans. And, this is home—a place to behold.