This will be the fifth Christmas without our oldest farm boy.
It hardly seems possible.
Our next farm boy won’t be here either.
It’s a different kind of Christmas.
I often wonder how he’s doing.
How Marine Boot Camp is treating him?
What is he feeling and thinking?
I wonder this too about our blue eyed, red head who resides in Heaven now.
The missing is hard.
That Farm Boy loves Christmas.
He often will decorate his room in July and play Christmas music as loud as he can.
Even before he left, he cleaned his room and strung Christmas lights.
It will be a different kind of Christmas.
15 years ago on this day I woke, heavy with child.
I wondered when we would meet this new bundle of joy.
I had prayed that God would let me deliver before or after Christmas.
Here I sat in the pre dawn hours wondering.
Pondering.
I wondered how Mary sat heavy with child knowing the child within her was the son of God; destined to die on a Cross.
What did she know?
How she must have treasured those quiet moments before the birth.
But that wasn’t her story.
She was traveling in a hectic mob.
Arriving for the Census in Bethlehem.
She hadn’t traveled first class.
In fact she was ready to deliver at any moment and probably walked most of the long journey;
only to arrive in a crowded town with no reservation.
Her accommodations a Stable.
It probably smelled strongly.
She was bone tired and finally sat down.
It was then that she realized she would not rest this night.
I pondered these things as I sat.
Then I too realized, this was going to be a different kind of Christmas.
At 11:48 p.m. on Christmas Eve God blessed us with a beautiful, blonde haired little girl.
She stole my heart.
I was a seasoned mom.
The delivery was short.
And I marveled at the wonder I held.
It was a different kind of Christmas.
We celebrated the next day in the hospital.
It had been a little over a year since my farmers mom had called her home heaven.
It was a different kind of Christmas.
This morning we woke that dancer girl early with giggles and a prank with her gift.
My heart was full.
My red head may be gone.
My soon to be Marine is gone, yet the joy God gives is not from the things of this earth.
His joy comes from a deep love for Him.
It comes from knowing that He and He alone is Lord.
He calls us by Name.
He wrote our story before the dawn of time.
We each were created for a reason with a purpose.
God is working that purpose in us.
In you and Me.
Trusting in Jesus isn’t about an easy life.
It’s about a relationship.
He pours out His spirit and His love to His people.
He walks with us through the good. . . and the bad.
He never leaves us.
He never forsakes us.
Even when your mom dies of cancer and your dad has Alzheimers at 69 and 70.
When your puppy is hit by a car and dies in your arms;
When your son dies 2 weeks later:
When your farmer is diagnosed with a rare cancer:
When your finances are so bad you can’t see a way out;
when your dad dies suddenly:
when not one, but both of your main cow barns blow down in a wind storm;
and when your farm boy announces he won’t be home for Christmas because he’s enlisting in the United States Marine Corps-
Even then, God is with us giving us a strength and a joy we never knew we could have.
It’s a different kind of Christmas.
But aren’t they all?
Isn’t each year filled with it’s own changes and dynamics?
There is One thing that hasn’t changed.
Jesus was born on that most Holy of Nights.
He came to shatter the darkness.
He brought light and freedom.
He is our Hope and Strength.
AND
He is coming again.
Happy Birthday to our beautiful dancer girl.
You continue to amaze us with your beauty, your gentleness and zest for life.
May you grow more and more each day in God’s grace.
May you serve him faithfully with your whole heart.
We love you.
As Nana used to say,
“You’re our Christmas Angel”
