Saturday, December 24, 2011

Silent Night

The feeling of contentment has been replaced with the eager watching for what is about to appear. Little ones try there best to stay awake to catch one glimpse of the rotund fellow as he leaves lots of gifts, eats some prized cookies, and then is spirited away to discover the homes of other good girls and boys around the world.

Shopping for Santa is finished and Christmas wishes better have been sent to locations far and near. Moms and Dads will soon huddle together learning the truth of “some assembly required.” There will be multiple goodies overstuffed with more calories than I should probably consume in 27 years. It’s about time to prepare our personal cuisine for every Christmas Eve: shrimps, little pizzas and hot dogs. I’m glad that Santa does not believe in counting calories.

Bob’s got ideas for outside our home starting tonight, Christmas Eve and extending through the 12 days of Christmas. I’m unsure of what that will entail. I do know that we’ll be home for Christmas, relaxing in the wonder of Christ’s birth. I’m planning on staying in my PJ’s all day Christmas while reading the many kid books I have collected.

Bob and I are both slow at getting things done and that brings a strong sense of frustration. We have tried to curb our expectations and focus on that special birth. We wanted to welcome Christmas in our own church and our own church family. That late night service on Christmas Eve will further ignite a sense of serenity within us. Yet will it help cushion the sore muscles and nerves that are apart of our bodies?

Bob has fallen each day, despite prayers for good health. Yesterday he slipped on the small ladder in our basement going up to our crawl space. The ladder fell on my hubby, capturing him until I could waddle over to release him from his trap. Today, he slipped on our first step outside and landed on our cement. The sidewalk is still good, with no apparent cracks. Bob’s head is not quite as lucky.

He has tried hard to have lights appear this holy night with Santa kneeling at our manger scene. A snowflake hanging from some lower branches is a substitute for the star that will lead those wise men on their journey. (Can you imagine, God could only find three smart guys in all of Judea and beyond? How many could He locate today?) A thin, colored sheet of metal forms Santa’s body kneeling at the base of the sacred manger. A white wooden manger scene that has filled our yard for many years surrounds it. Bob is attempting to hide one of the baby Jesuses, but I think of my eldest grandson who asked to go see the other Jesus outside.

We will soon put luminaries outside along the sidewalk. Bob had looked for white ones about 304 days too late. We had some red and green ones I picked up somewhere, so they will be lovely substitutes for ones more solemn.

Bob is sleeping now, praying to wake with little pain. I napped this afternoon, so I am ready to go! My cough medicine with codeine knocks me out, so I will try to silently hack away. You all know the feeling of trying not to cough at some public event. I have yet to learn the trick so wish me luck at disguising my ailment.  I talked with Stephanie’s family. They are huddled with things to “nosh” watching our annual Miracle on 34th Street. She has extended our patterns to her new family. The boys got to blow out the 4th Advent candle and get birthday cake for Jesus at their home church. What a sense of peace that gives me. Suddenly, the hip is not so burning and my cough is reduced!

I have long told anyone near me in script or on the street of the many joys wrapped in the wonder of having grandchildren. There are few people in all of Chicagoland who are unaware of my status as a grandmother. With all that bottled pleasure comes a blanket of serenity when I see the actions of a past generation repeated this holy night. As my daughter begins to instill the real magic of a holy birth, as Bob and I attend our church service, as past generations have sung Silent Night there is peace for the world, a break in the busyness and a dream for the future. Help keep that dream alive. Merry Christmas Eve.


God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:
     -  It takes us longer, so we pick and choose the right activities for our home. We stop to prepare in a new way, making sure we insure the echo of the words of Luke. Life is good!

No comments:

Post a Comment