Connecting Through Word | December 24 ,2014
As a young girl, I loved the Christmas decorations Mom had found for our family tree. Some of my favorite ornaments were of Disney characters. My brother, Eric, and I would debate over the two chipmunk ornaments, trying to figure out who was Chip and who was Dale. There was also a molded rubber figurine of Mickey’s dog, Pluto. The poor guy was missing a chunk out of his backside. I guess when I was little, Pluto’s behind fell prey to my teeth. Every year, Eric would hold it up and remind me that I ruined his decoration, but we hung it on the tree anyway.
When the tree was all decorated, we would turn off the lamp in the living room and enjoy our masterpiece. Each bulb became a tiny spotlight for the ornaments. Oh my, did I think it was beautiful with the lights reflecting off of the silver tinsel (the old-fashioned kind that came in individual strands). I would often get up early, plug in the lights, and enjoy the beauty of the tree all by myself in the quiet of a calm winter morning.
I recall the smell of wood smoke lingering on my dad’s clothes on Christmas morning. It was agony waiting to open presents until Dad stoked the fire. After what seemed like an eternity, he would come back upstairs and sit down in his chair. Then we could finally open up the presents that we had been shaking for the past week, as we tried to guess what was inside.
Later in the day was the annual gathering at my grandparent’s house. Gram, my dad’s mom, invited all the relatives over for the holiday meal. Every room on the main floor would hold family members catching up on each other’s lives. It was the one time of the year kids were allowed in the living room. Every so often, above the buzz of conversation, you could hear the sound of Gram’s voice scolding someone for snitching a bite in the kitchen before it was time.
The meal was always great, but my favorite things to eat were in my stocking. Gram had a stocking for each one of us grandkids, and every year, as we pulled out the contents, it was always the same: an orange, an apple, old-fashion hard candy, soft nougat peppermints (the kind with the tree in the middle), nuts, and ten pennies rolled in tin-foil plus a popcorn ball. They weren’t just any ol’ popcorn balls, but home-made popcorn balls, my ultimate favorite Christmas treat at Gram’s. If we didn’t finish all the treats before we left the house, Gram would give us a brown paper bag to bring the rest home.
Those Christmases growing up in Iowa were always special with family, but there was something else special about it too. At the time I wouldn’t have been able to explain exactly what it was, but the rest of the world seemed to change during the season too. Something sweet and peaceful fell upon the world, like fresh fallen snow.
That same warm fuzzy feeling still falls on me now as I sit in front of the Christmas tree. I’ve come to know the feeling well, and today it fills my heart with sweet peace, despite the sadness, as I think of everything that has changed. I close my eyes and breathe in the moment and all the emotions.
I really do miss spending time with my grandparents and so many other relatives that have passed away. With a heavy heart, I recall the home I grew up in. It’s gone now, along with all the old decorations and many other childhood memorabilia. They all were lost in a fire that started in the chimney, the same chimney that funneled smoke for so many Christmas morning fires.
In the next breath, my heart is reminded of pleasing changes that have come over the years too. I grew up, met my husband, let go of old dreams, became a mother and grabbed onto new dreams. Through those years, I also came to know why there was such a sweet peace falling on the Earth at Christmas. It was Jesus.
As a child, I never really heard the reason why Jesus was important to Christmas. I now know that Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who was sent to save the world from the curse of sin.
As a young adult I could already feel the weight and curse of sin. I carried the regret of my sins with me like a backpack weighed down with heavy rocks of: “Why did I do that?”, “I wished I wouldn’t have gone there”, “If only I had never said that”, “What was I thinking?”, and so much more. I felt so much shame; I really wanted to hide myself somehow. When I was in public, I would wear a forced smile and counterfeit confidence to hide my insecurities, guilt and shame.
I learned that Jesus was sent to save us all, even me. When I accepted Jesus as my Savior, the backpack of shame and regret was lifted, and I felt free. Jesus didn’t only come to free us from the feeling of shame and regret; He also came to save us from the eternal curse of sin. Sin separates us from the Heavenly Father. By accepting Jesus as Savior, there is newness to life not only on this earth, but a new life after we die, in Heaven. That’s why Jesus is so important to Christmas.
As I gaze at our Christmas tree, my mind drifts back over the years, and I realize how much my life has changed since I was a young girl gazing at a Christmas tree. As the memories of Christmases past flood my mind, my heart smiles as I recall each one. I also rejoice in knowing Jesus and the true meaning of Christmas.
I pray that this Christmas you will sense the sweet peace of this season and long to know Jesus as the Savior in your life too. If you already know Him, Amen! (I would love to hear your story too!) If you would like to know more about what it means to accept Jesus as your Savior, contact me, it is the most important change you can ever make in your life.
“For this is how God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16 (NLT)
Merry Christmas!
