Candles flicker, faces glow…. O Holy Night.

I let my tears spill from my eyes without wiping them away as the Hallelujah swells – both tears of sadness, remembering how it was so hard to sing at the funerals of two beloved grandparents and tears due to the pure holiness of standing in this sanctuary on THIS Christmas Eve. Funerals and majesty, two reasons we would say hallelujah in the first place.

I sit next to my son on one side, my husband, and the other, (the girls and my parents on either side of them,) knowing the family behind me is celebrating a new engagement. Families in front of me and all around, generations of growth, hope and change.

Christmas Eve together: the moments of taking pictures including our three dogs, that bring both laughter and preserving the moment and the frustration of trying to get the picture at all. Then we were off to one side of the family for Christmas, blessings of being cared for by my in-laws and gratitude for being loved.

We arrived for a candlelight service at our church that is still new to us and yet familiar. After attending church here as a teen, then another for nearly 25 years of my adult life, God brought us back here, post-COVID.

Worship this night led us to the very love of Jesus embodied in a vulnerable, helpless baby. Our lovely and talented worship leader encouraged us to think about the service as if it was the first or last time we would hear the story of Jesus Christ’s birth. What would be different, what would be new or what would we feel?

Oh Jesus, how could you, for me? How could you subject yourself to it ALL? Knowing and not knowing as a babe, knowing and teaching as a teen, as a rabbi, a sacrifice and ultimately as a Savior. How could you for us ALL? Can we worship you or thank you enough? Can we possibly love you to make it all worth it?

These were my thoughts, as I felt all around slip away and was just present with my Jesus, Lord and Savior. I can’t do, say, or love you well enough. I truly cannot….

But I can stand here, surrendered to the holiness of Christmas, allowing my heart to hear it new, to see you in a different light and share the love you have lavishly given so freely. I can stand here, still missing my beloved people who are with you already. I trust that your word is true.

Home after the service, the 5 of us. I relish these moments of us, the ones I feel slipping away like sand on a shore…the 18 year old just ready, talking more and more of “going to school.” My other two growing and changing as well… but for now she and we are here…the sparkle of Christmas lights, the arrival of friends who are family to share a hug and tea ring, a time honored tradition that brings again the pang of loss and the hope of heaven. The loss of this dear sister’s dad was a teacher of grief in my 20’s. Love tends to honor loss and hope so often, if not always. It is a difficult and deeply trusting both/and, on the daily.

Then is one of my favorite things of all… the giving of gifts to those I love. I often wish for a million dollars to be able to dole it out in all the best ways.

This year included Legos for my love and my son, their favorite cloths brands, sweet and meaningful jewelry, stuffed animals, books, electronics and favorite candy. The pure joy for us as their parents WAS the joy, the gratitude and the moments that THEY recognized just for a moment, how known and seen, loved and cherished they are. The stuff is simply a mechanism to show them love, care and unconditional presence to who they are.

I also received so much love in the form of their thoughtful and beautiful gifts: a handmaid piece of pottery, jewelry of sentiment and symbolism, soft socks and thoughts of my Gram; a candle “that smells perfect like you, Mom” and still more love than I could write. My love outdid himself, the sheer surprise of a recumbent bike he crafted out of metal, and tickets to see Pink in the Future! (If you are wondering why that is in bold, please see my last post!) I could not have been more surprised or felt more cherished. Not because of the gift, because love IS the gift.

Love is the gift, this Christmas and every other moment beyond, because HE, Jesus Christ, IS LOVE.

That’s what I felt in the candle lit glow of the sanctuary, a growing actual sanctuary of safety and love in the form of the church, new and old friends. That is how I saw the Christmas story new: the familiar, the sacrifice, innocence and the true LOVE. That is how I experience friends and family, the love of it all.

Christmas day brought still more love, care, laughter and our humanity in the form of all of us together. All the care, love and individuality. I am so thankful for the both/and. In it ALL, HE IS LOVE. We try to love and love well. We get to try to care and be kind to ourselves and each other. We GET TO cherish each other because, there by the grace of God, go (I) but truly we….

I pray for you, this Christmas season, that you GOT TO feel love in some form…that even in the hardest and darkest, hope somehow prevailed. I pray you KNOW without a shadow of doubt, how important and worthy you are and that you are able to rest and hope, in all that God promises.

Thank you for being on this writing journey with me. It is such a gift to write, interact and connect.

Merry Christmas again and a very brave, brave New Year.

Both/And

1 Peter 4:8