Wonder and War at Christmas

While I watched numerous Hallmark holiday specials this month, the Christmas oriented show I remember most was the Dec. 13th episode of NCIS, titled "Newborn King".

I'm not joking. I found it when I browsed our "on demand" listings two days after it aired.

[I also found this Star Wars nativity photo while browsing flickr, copyright Larry Lars. It captures wonder with stars and war so well].

LEGO Star Wars Nativity, a photo by Official Star Wars Blog on Flickr.

No one was home and I was busy preparing dinner as the show progressed. But I left the kitchen and stood fixated in front of our TV when the bad guys got close and the end drew near. I even wiped a few tears before the episode concluded.

Yes... you can make fun of me now.

I'll skip a full synopsis and just explain what touched me. But you should stop reading here if you haven't seen the show and don't want to know the end - because it all came to a head in adjoining rooms of a run down gas station garage.

A blizzard raged. A simple rendition of "Silent Night" played in the background. Gibbs aided in the birth of a baby wanted by the government while Ziva fought Russian hit men in a fierce gunfight.

Wonder and war manifested right next to each other on a silent, holy night. And the picture presented the most accurate representation of the Christmas story I'd seen all month.

Don't get me wrong, I wish the story stopped at the end of Matthew chapter two and just skipped chapter three altogether. I would rather the Magi left Bethlehem and we never learn that "Herod gave orders to kill all the boys two years old and under in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi." (Matt. 3: 16) A Hallmark version without unbearable grief is far more palpable.

But life continues with wonder and war - even at Christmas - even during this Christmas.

Maybe it's because I'm still trying to decide if I should buy a mini-van or a mini-SUV so it can hold a scooter for me to ride on, accepting my legs aren't getting any better. Maybe it's because I had a shot in my back a week ago that scared me for two days when my leg cramped through two nights. Maybe it's because little Noah, a five year old boy who's fought mito all his life, almost didn't make it through the holiday (see: prayingfornoah.com) or because my friend Ann and her family have come through a tiresome journey as her husband recovers from a lung transplant.

The list goes on. But deep down, holding to wonder felt harder than normal this year; the reality of the war all too real for me and many others.

Which is why it moved me all the more that Silent Night played through it all. Indeed, "all is calm, all is bright" rings true even on the darkest of nights when the fight is real and the heart ache true.

Jesus didn't come to complete the nativity scenes we enjoy. He came to die on a cross to bring ultimate life for us all. Life for me. Life for Noah. Life for all who suffer, struggle, and give it up to the one true God whose plan of Salvation only began in a manger in Bethlehem.

"For he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed." (Is. 53: 5)

Wonder. War. Jesus born. Oh come... let us adore.

A Tale of Two Nativites

Twenty years ago, this nativity set adorned a hand me down, beat up coffee table in a tiny upstairs apartment. My first husband's dad made the tall ceramic figures for our first Christmas back in 1990. My camera captured only half the figures that sit on my piano today.

It's still my favorite decoration to unpack.

After Don (husband number two) and I moved into his former home, we decided to go through his Christmas stash and combine them both. Days before the search, he inferred a nice nativity set lay buried in the boxes piled high in our basement. I smirked, knowing there was no way his set could trump mine.

It doesn't. But it's every bit as special.

When we found the box, I opened more than another nativity set. I found myself staring at a post card from God: a ceramic set just like my own.


Don's first wife's mother made the set for them about the same time my first husband's dad made ours. It sits opposite mine on a wooden chest in our living room today. Their set has a matte finish, two fewer camels, a very cool angel, and several more chips than ours.

Perhaps I should have let my boys touch our glossy finished set more! Our three giant camels and removable baby Jesus tell the story well.

Regardless, as the holidays approached last year and coordinating kids and families churned an all too familiar stress, finding our matching nativities symbolized a deep togetherness - even if it lay hidden in a box for the first four years of our marriage.

It's still complicated. Blending families, traditions, and schedules creates hurdles we can't always cross. But every evening the last few weeks, I've relished the two sets lit on either side of my small living room.

A piece of him. A touch of her. Together here in our home.














"Joy to the world the Lord has come."

Awakening Wonder

A woman from the care team at church called over a month ago and asked how they might help me with life. I struggled to answer but then blurted, "Do you think someone would help me decorate for Christmas?"

A week or two later she sent me an email. Three girls from my October Bible study group (Erin, Sarah, and Bethany pictured above) offered their time. They came over Wednesday night a week ago and started the unveiling.

They put my tree together and filled it with twenty years worth of ornaments. They hung ornate angels on my curtain rods, wrapped plastic, aging garland around my railing, and covered most surfaces in my living room with Santas, snowmen, and nativity sets.

It was a huge step forward.

Boxes still covered the floor, however, when I left for Athens the next day to hear Nathan sing in the annual UGA Hodgson School of Music Christmas Concert. My sister came to help with the driving and after a slow start in rush hour traffic, we were seated in the handicap section where my leg could stretch out with ease.

My tears began soon after the music started. The familiar songs performed with a full orchestra and 150-200 voices, carried me above the ordinary to the place where wonder awakens and hushed holiness prevails.

Between decorating with my memory filled Christmas stash and listening to the familiar story sung with musical excellence, I realized why I love this frenzied time of year. It beckons us to awaken wonder; to revel in the mystery of the divine.

"The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned." (Is. 9:2) "For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be upon his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end."(Is 9:6-7)

During the intermission, a sophomore student leaned over to me and said, "This may seem weird, but I have to ask if you ever worked at Camp Greystone." Sarah had taken some of my Broadway music classes at camp when I served as Music Director there years ago. Surprised by the connection, we enjoyed old memories. She hung around after the concert and met Nathan and some of his friends. I enjoyed visiting with them almost as much as I enjoyed the concert. Pictured here: Nathan, Jenny, Devon, Sarah, and Grace.

As my sister and I drove through Athens on our way home, I checked my messages. Don had called during the concert. Our daughter-in-law, Misty, was in labor. Within the hour, she gave birth to a baby girl, Penny Louise. I ended my evening at Piedmont hospital where I got to see baby Penny, only hours old, whose birth reminded me of the one we celebrate now.

The King of Kings. The Lord of Lords. A tiny baby and creator of the ends of the earth.

It all just awakens wonder in me. And I'm grateful we sing, we decorate, we pause for a season to bask in the miracle of Emmanuel, God with us.

Colby Wren on CNN

Colby is a year older than my Sam and has battled mito for several years. Check out his story on CNN:

http://http//thechart.blogs.cnn.com/2011/12/06/human-factor-college-athlete-battles-mitochondrial-disease/#comments

How cool is that?