There's Nothing as "Over" as Christmas

My friend Patty tells me her sweet mother always said, "There's nothing as "over" as Christmas.

How true.

I so vividly remember the first weekend I began shopping and wrapping this year. It was still a couple weeks before Thanksgiving, and I put on some lovely Christmas music (I believe it was Josh Groban). For me, the season had begun! Even my kids complained, "Mom, it's still November!" I didn't care. It's my absolute favorite time of year, and I wasn't about to wrap Christmas presents without Christmas music. I attributed my early start to the fact that we had three new people join our family this year, a nearly 50% increase. I would certainly need more time.

As November faded and December arrived, I was already in full swing. The tree was up. The house was decorated. The lists were made. The shopping was under way. As the days flew by, one after the other, and I watched Seth move the mouse in our Christmas countdown calendar, I was okay until the mouse reached the final row beginning with December 20th. At that point, I began to feel much like the Grinch. "I've got to stop Christmas from coming!" I thought. Not because I don't like it. Not because my heart is two sizes too small like the Grinch's (at least I hope not), but because as Patty's mother so eloquently points out:

There's nothing as "over" as Christmas.

And I didn't want it to be over. I wanted to slow down time those final few days in order to stretch out the joy just a little longer. What if we simply didn't move the mouse? Would that work? Obviously not.

Christmas came and went. Just like that. It was lovely, by the way. We had a houseful of people most of the week, constant coming and going, the normal last-minute shopping, plenty of cooking and eating with no regard for calories or fat grams. Still, in all the bustle, some quiet moments found their way. On Christmas Eve, before opening our traditional one gift each, Gerald and I read aloud the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke, and Mathew offered a prayer of thanksgiving for the gift of the Savior and for the blessings of family. It was quiet for just a moment, even with all ten of us in the same room. Christmas morning, we waited with anxious delight for Seth to ascend the stairs and find his "Santa" gifts, an electric scooter and a new fish to replace Orange-head, who died a couple weeks ago.

And then, as quickly as it came, it was over. Early this morning, Shulamith and Matt got into their car to begin the long drive back to Utah. This afternoon, Désirée and Luke and Evelyn boarded an airplane bound for Texas. We get to keep Isaiah for another week, thanks heavens! Tomorrow, I will take down the mouse calendar, along with the tree and other decorations and pack them safely away for another year. I will try not to cry. Isaiah is still here. And Lindsey is in town this week as well. Both these things will help tremendously. I will try hard not to cry.

Generally speaking, January is my very least favorite month. It's still so cold, but Christmas is over. It's much easier to tolerate the bitter cold when Christmas is coming. I find myself thinking about the curse of the witch in Narnia, which made it always winter but never Christmas. How wretched! January feels so long. This year, however, I get to go to Utah and spend six days with Shulamith while Matt is in New York. I'm thinking January won't be so bad after all.

There's nothing as "over" as Christmas, and yet, the new year is rich with opportunity. Who knows what is in store for each of us. Two thousand ten brought us two weddings and three new family members. I doubt 2011 can measure up to that, but you never know.

Christmas Is Still Wonderful As Long As You're in Love

Once upon a time in a park on a swing way back in December 2009, a dashing young man proposed marriage to a beautiful young girl. That was a whole year ago. About six weeks later, they were married.

Since then, they have lived the first ten months of "happily ever after," but they had one regret. They wanted to get a picture in the park where they got engaged. As the anniversary of their engagement approached, the young man had an idea. What if they went back to that swing and took a mom with them to take a picture. This idea grew into another wonderful surprise.

So the young man and his beautiful bride, along with her mom, set out for the park. It was very cold, and they had to climb over mounds of snow just to reach the correct swing. The girl sat down on the cold swing, and the young man knelt down in the snow as if to simulate last year's proposal, only this time, he pulled out a box with yet another ring, a stunning blue topaz set in silver. He asked her to stay married to him forever. It was very romantic! The girl was overcome with surprise, and the mom (who was in on the secret all along) photographed the whole event.

Overcome with excitement, the girl shoved the ring onto her right ring finger because, of course, she wears her wedding ring on her left hand. Everything seemed perfect...at least for a while. But then..

A crisis occurred. Oh no! (Warning: if you only like happy stories, you should stop reading now. Remember, you were warned!)

The young man went home to play videogames with the girl's brothers, and the girl and her mom headed out to shop for Christmas groceries. With loaded shopping carts, they proceeded to the check-out when the girl attempted to remove the ring. It wouldn't budge. Not at all. Apparently, her right ring finger is slightly larger than her left. The finger had swollen up below the ring, and the harder she pulled, the more swollen it became. They arrived home and tried every online technique to remove rings: she elevated her hand above her heart for an hour. The young man iced her finger and applied cream, oil, and butter. He even tried wrapping dental floss around her finger to make it small enough to pull off the ring.

Nothing worked.

By now it was11:00 p.m., and it was obvious we would need to find someone to cut off the ring. The girl was very sad. Her beautiful new ring would need to be cut off her finger. We called the fire department, and the nice firefighters told us to come right over. Even they tried to remove the ring without cutting it, but to no avail. They used their "ring cutter" and cut off the ring.

I'm trying to find a way to make this story end happily. What can I say? That the ring can be repaired once they get back to Utah where the young man bought it? Indeed, it can! That Christmas is still wonderful even when slightly unfortunate things happen? Indeed, it is. Most importantly, that the young man and his bride are still madly in love despite this incident? Indeed, they are!

Seth, Loose Teeth, and Safe Airplane Travel

Everyone loves to hear children around age six or seven sing the song "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth." If visits from the tooth fairy aren't exciting enough, visits from the tooth fairy around Christmas time must be the epitome of excitement for young children. Seth, at the mature age of ten, is obviously past that point; however, he's at another milestone in the ongoing process of replacing "baby" teeth with permanent ones. When kids get to be ten or eleven, it seems like every baby tooth they have left in their mouths becomes loose, all at the same time. I distinctly remember this situation with Luke. Nervous mom that I was (am?), I couldn't imagine it was normal for one kid to have that many loose teeth at the same time. Panicked, I called the dentist, who graciously reassured me that children are supposed to lose their teeth. I knew that. But all at once?!? Apparently so. Luke's situation was perfectly normal, and it's the exact situation in which Seth finds himself now.

As he was pointing out to me all these teeth at varying degrees of looseness and speculating about how much money he might receive, I casually mentioned that the tooth fairy is likely very busy in December, what with Christmas and all. Okay, okay, so why would the tooth fairy be any busier around Christmas than at any other time? I don't know. Trust me, it sounded good when I said it. Poor Seth had to wait three weeks last time he lost a tooth. There's something about being the fifth child in the family that causes that tooth fairy to be awfully slow and forgetful. I just wanted him to be prepared. His response: "If I don't get lots and lots of money for all these loose teeth, I want nothing more to do with the tooth fairy!"

Did you hear that, Tooth Fairy? The kid is serious.

This entire conversation occurred as we flew between Indiana and Denver this afternoon. Next topic: the safety of air travel. Upon descending into Denver, we experienced a bit of turbulence, not a lot and not bad, but a little. Seth hasn't flown that much, so the turbulence caused him some concern.

Seth: What if this plane crashes?

Me: The plane is not going to crash. You don't have to worry.

Seth: But what if it does?

Me: Seth, if I thought there was any reasonable chance at all that this plane would crash, I would not take you on it. Because you are very important.

Seth: No Mom, you are more important than me.

Me: Seth, that is just not true.

Seth: Mom! Yes, it is. I am just a kid, but you are the mother of five children. If I die, you still have four left. But if you die, none of us would have a mother. You are much more important.

Oh, my precious baby boy! Your logic is lovely, but in this case, you couldn't be more wrong.

Wishing everyone plenty of loose teeth followed by regular visits from the tooth fairy, and safe holiday travel, whether by plane or otherwise.

A Weary World Rejoices

I dearly love the Christmas season. The words from the familiar carol "It's the most wonderful time of the year" don't begin to express how I feel about it. I love every part of Christmas, and I am not alone. Something about this season brings out the best in folks. We smile more. We think of our neighbors instead of ourselves. We cut each other a little more slack. We're more tolerant. We're kinder.

Those of us who are Christians attribute this to our feelings about the Savior and our desire to celebrate His miraculous birth. But even those with no religious faith are affected by this magical time of year. My father, for example, was not religious. I don't even know if he believed in God. He might have, but I can't be sure. He had no use whatsoever for organized religion. However, he was a good man, a good man who became better at Christmas. I have fond memories of shopping with him for gifts for my mom when I was a little girl. We would pass by the Salvation Army bell ringers, and he would always donate whatever spare cash he had. "Why do you give them your money," I asked. He told me about the good work of the folks at the Salvation Army. He said when he and his co-workers were fighting fires in the middle of cold winter nights, Salvation Army workers would be there with hot coffee and sandwiches for the fire fighters. "Never pass by one of those bell ringers without donating," he instructed me. And I don't. To this day, I can't walk by a Salvation Army bell ringer without digging for all the change in my purse.

Historians tell us that the Savior was likely born in the spring. Nevertheless, we unite with Christians worldwide to celebrate his birth in the deepest, darkest month of December; at least in this hemisphere it's deep and dark, and that is my only reference point. I find much symbolism connected to this time of year. With short days, long nights, and freezing temperatures, what causes us to rejoice with such gladness in this season? Certainly not the weather in Billings, Montana! I haven't been warm since October. And no, I don't enjoy slipping around on frozen roads every time I try to walk or drive anywhere. Yet, we celebrate.

Out of the darkness, comes the light. Out of the cold, comes the warmth. Out of the pain and suffering, comes the one "Risen with healing in His wings."

Rejoice in this unique time of year. Smile an extra smile. Pardon the driver who cuts you off in traffic. Give one more hug to your children as they head off to school. Drop some change in the Salvation Army bell ringer's kettle. Love fully.

"Hark now hear the angels sing
A new king born today.
And we will live forever more
Because of Christmas Day."

Remembering Gifts

In this season of gift-giving, it is natural to think about the many gifts in our lives. We remember the excitement of special Christmas gifts from childhood. The earliest one I remember is a doll called "Baby First Step." I wanted her more than anything, and I remember running down the stairs on Christmas morning to find her 'walking' across the living room to greet me. Santa had remembered. As time went on, dolls were replaced by make-up, jewelry and clothes. I remember getting a flower pot that blossomed with an array of different colored lipsticks. I felt so grown up. (Yes, there was a time when I actually longed to be older).

As a parent, I remember the joy of so many magical Christmas mornings; nothing is sweeter than the delight in our children's faces when they are caught entirely by surprise. One such Christmas, we surprised Luke and Shulamith with a trip. We were to leave only a few hours after opening our gifts. As they opened various travel items, one by one, they were first curious, then baffled, then hesitant, and ultimately stunned that we were really boarding an airplane later that day, bound for Disneyland. What fun! Then there was the year we gave 8-year-old Eli his own Desert Tortoise. He stood over the tank, speechless, his jaw dropped and his mouth wide open. It was priceless. Almost as priceless as the year Isaiah got his first hand-held video-game console, the Nintendo Game Boy Color. W00t!

This year, as always, I've thoroughly enjoyed shopping for my children. I've also reflected on other gifts such as the love of family and the atonement of the Savior, those gifts that are more important than tangible items. In addition, especially these past few days, I've contemplated the gift of friendship and its significance in my life. I've written many times in this blog about my two closest friends, Lindsey and Celeste. You can read about them here. And here. You can even see their pretty pictures. But as you know, neither of them lives in Billings anymore.

When Celeste moved to San Antonio 2-1/2 years ago, I cried hard. When Lindsey moved to Rexburg last summer, I cried harder. Because then they were both gone. My two best friends. I felt terribly alone. To clarify, it's not that I don't know other people. I do. I am acquainted with many lovely folks from around my life: from school, from church, from book group, from Seth's activities. But they are not "close friends," you know, the kind you can call at the last minute to watch your child, or the kind you can spend hours with just talking because you never run out of things to say. Or the kind you can trust with your whole soul because you know they would never betray you. I didn't have any of those friends left....

Except for one. Her name is Mandy. And I'm pretty sure Mandy curses the days my other two friends left town, because she, single-handedly, has been left with the burden of being my only close friend in Billings. And let me tell you, it hasn't been an easy job. Every time I need a favor, I call Mandy. Why? Because I truly can't think of anyone else to call. Why do I need so many favors? I'm not sure. Lately, it seems like I can't handle life on my own. Let me give you a few examples.

1. I needed a place to ship my Christmas packages, so my family wouldn't inadvertently receive them and discover their Christmas presents. Mandy, could I please have my packages shipped to your house? Of course!

2. I needed a baby-sitter for Seth's stupid goldfish, Mr. Orange-head Fisher, when we went to Utah for Thanksgiving. He won this thing two months ago at Saturday Live. Honestly, what goldfish lives for two whole months? I thought the one thing goldfish knew how to do was die. But no, Mr. Fisher is still swimming around alive and well. Mandy, could you please keep this fish at your house for five days and feed him while we're in Utah? Of course!

3. I needed someone to push my car out of the snow in front of Mandy's house after a fun evening together. Mandy, I'm stuck! Can you come outside in the freezing cold and help me push my car out of the snow? Of course!

4. I need someone to come take a family snapshot to send with our Christmas cards once Shulamith, Mathew, Isaiah, Luke, Desiree, and Evelyn arrive on Tuesday the 20th. Mandy, I'm sure you have nothing better to do four days before Christmas, so could you come over and take a picture of all of us? Of course!

What next??? I don't know. But if I were Mandy, I'd be hiding in my house, screening my phone calls.

Gifts. I am thankful for all of them, the magical memories from childhood; the joy on my own children's faces years later; and especially--the gift of my close friends, the two who have moved away, and the one who is still here.

Remembering Gifts.

Our First Guest Post!

I have published this blog for nearly two years. This is my 160th post. In all that time, I have never included a guest post, written by someone other than myself. To be honest, it's never occurred to me to invite others to submit writing. Until now, I guess I figured I am prolific enough (160 posts in under two years!) that I don't really need guest writers.

Then I read an article by Rebecca. She is the pastor of the Congregational United Church of Christ in Buena Vista, CO. She is also my friend of the past 20 years. We met as young married couples in a little town in Oregon back in the day. I had two very young children; she had none...yet. It was a good time. Today, our relationship revolves mainly around Facebook Scrabble, where she slaughters me game after game after game. Recently, she must have decided it wasn't enough to win one game at a time, so she added a second. Great!

On the surface, we Mormons don't seem to be very ecumenical. In reality, our church joins regularly with Christians all over the world to provide service and humanitarian aid wherever it is needed. Locally, though, in our own communities, we tend to stay to ourselves. I'm not entirely sure why that is although I have some speculations. Regardless, I can't think of a better season to be ecumenical than this one, when Christians across the globe unite to celebrate the birth of the babe born in Bethlehem, the child who would bring tidings of peace to a troubled world, who would provide the perfect example of a love purer than what our human minds can comprehend, and whose ultimate sacrifice would make possible immorality and eternal life for all.

It is in that spirit that I share Rebecca's article. I was delighted by it. I think you will be too.

From Pastor Rebecca....

As I sit down to write, I shake off a chill from a cold and windy walk with the dogs. It is a day that can’t decide whether to shine or to allow a snow storm to visit from over the mountains. I have made a cup of tea, put on another sweater, gotten out the seriously-warm slippers and given profuse thanks to God for the person who invented this wonderful thing called flannel-lined jeans!

The seasons are definitely a-changin’. We can’t fool ourselves into thinking that it might just get warm enough in the middle of the afternoon to sit on the porch for a few minutes with a book and watch the neighbors ride by on bicycles. Or, to hop on the horses for an hour and pretend it’s summer. When it’s 6:15 and we’ve already eaten dinner and wonder if it’s just a little too early to go to bed—that’s when you know we’re in a new season!

This time of year has a character all its own, doesn’t it? The Ancient Celts hailed this time from Samhain on Oct 31st to Yule on December 20-23 as the new year, and a sacred time all its own. It was a time of preparation for winter, of bringing in the animals and plants; of gathering around the hearth as a family; cooking and baking for the upcoming festivals. The short days and long evenings engendered a sense of deepening, of introspection. More time was spent reading poetry aloud, singing around the fire, telling stories. Folks were inside, together.

How do you welcome this time of year? How do you make it a “sacred season,” where the opportunity presents itself to be more introspective, to “go inside” more—both physically and thoughtfully? What do you do as a family “around the fire” so to speak? (around the computer?)

Life will be filled with concerts, programs, parties and special worship experiences. This season you will find the opportunity to sing, laugh, cry, eat, pray, and love (sounds like a book title!). Relish this season. Let it be a “deep time”—a time for reflection and thanksgiving, as well as a time for fun and celebration. Let it be a time to remember; a thin time when God and the saints are especially near. To give thanks for those who have passed through the veil; to remember those who need family and warmth and a place to come. To give as graciously as we are given, in God’s ever-abundant economy.

Out of darkness comes The Light. The days are short; the dark nights are long. It is a rich time, full of meaning and possibility. The Light of the World is waiting to be born—in us, in our hearts, in our world—Advent is just around the corner. Come, Lord Jesus.


Blessings, Rebecca