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When Christmas Comes
. . . the angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him. Matthew 2:13-14 KJV
I marvel at the way Christmas comes each year – not on the date designated for celebration, but the way the spirit of Christmas itself comes – permeating our beings all on its own.
Christmas Past
Growing up, it came upon me once while walking home with friends through the snow. Another year in the midst of singing carols, the joy hit me. Once, during a Christmas pageant, the spirit of His Love swept into my soul. Another time, while bulldozing through snow drifts determined to get home in blizzard conditions, His Presence was there.
Each time that force of Christmas love touched my heart in a different way. but each time it was strong and special..sent from God’s Heart to mine.
Christmas That Year
So, I thought of all those memories and wondered how Christmas would come this year. We had recently moved away from my hometown, after twenty-five years of living there. Here we were in a new place after moving 1400 miles with my husband and two very little ones. How would our first Christmas be in our new home? We were living in a very rural area and knew few people.
The Kids and the Flu
Then, the children and I got the flu and we couldn’t get to the town’s Christmas party or the Christmas pageant at church.
No Christmas pageant!
Unthinkable!
My spirits hit a new low.
How could we have Christmas with no pageant?
I knew there was no way for us all to attend, without spreading the flu to half the town. We agreed to have our own family service on Christmas eve at home, but in my heart, I knew I was still feeling down.
Christmas Comes
Little did I know the spirit of Christmas was starting to come again. So gently, the Lord sent it to me this year. Not the pounding thrill I felt as a child walking in the snow, but with the gentle touch of a father comforting his child–touching and removing our disappointment.
The first ray of Christmas came as I dragged myself and my flu to the sink to do the day’s dishes.
I was exhausted.
My one-year-old and two-year-old weren’t the world’s greatest patients and I was too sick a nurse to be doing much good. My husband was working nights and I was alone with my sick babies.
I sank my hands into the dishwater and stared at the wall where I had taped up our Christmas cards.
One scene struck me — Mary, Joseph, and the baby leaving hurriedly for Egypt. Not a scene often found on Christmas cards, I thought. This was a part of the Christmas story to which I hadn’t given a great deal of thought.
I thought now of what we must have had in common, and it didn’t somehow seem a presumptuous thought.
In Difficult Years
During those first years, Mary was far from her hometown of Nazareth, there in Egypt, raising Jesus. She, too, was away from her girlhood friends with such a little one.
Christmas slowly started to come to me…
The next day a local man donned a pathetically faded Santa suit and handed out little bags of candy for each child in our town..and the outlying districts, of which we were a part. We bundled the kids up and let them out for a quick hello and familiar neighborly faces greeted us. Our outing was brief, but the children were thrilled and I found myself thinking about how nice the voices of new friends could sound.
Christmas was coming.
Christmas is Love
That night, I tucked my two-year-old into her crib.
“What do we thank God for today?” I asked her. “For sending Jesus? for feeling better?” I prompted hopefully.
She nodded.
Then she looked at me lovingly, and in a tiny voice whispered,
“For you..”
I couldn’t speak.
Christmas Had Come.
And I wondered if Mary in Egypt, raising little Jesus ever felt alone, ever felt far away from Nazareth’s loved ones or Bethlehem’s adoring shepherds, and the worshipping wise men.
I wondered if the Father gently brought Christmas to her again, the years when there were no wise men nor brilliant star, as my year of no pageant or celebrations.
I wondered if the Father gently let His Son tell Mary, that He loved her too, as the loving Father let my child tell me.
For when He did, then Mary would know, as I was slowly learning, that Christmas comes. when we let in God’s Love.