Welcome, Christmas

Years ago, my sister wisely told me that life sort of moves in group stages. There is a time period where all your friends are getting married. There is a period where all your friends are having babies. There is a time where all your friends are sending kids to college. And so on. Actually, at the time, she and her husband were at an older urban church in Chicago, and she was explaining to me that most of their parishoners were at the time where all their friends were dying. And now it seems I find myself in the time period where all my friends' parents are dying.

Of course, that is a generalization, and not necessarily true across the board. Some of my friends' parents passed away years ago, shocking us into the awareness of our own parents' mortality. Some of my friends posted Christmas pictures of their kids with their parents this year, looking hale and hearty. But many of us are missing our folks this year. In early December, I attended a funeral for a dear old friend's mom. It was a lovely service, and included a reading of this poem:

I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below
With tiny lights like heaven's stars reflecting on the snow.

The sight is so spectacular please wipe away that tear
For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear
But the sounds of music can't compare with the Christmas choir up here.

I have no words to tell you of the joy their voices bring
For it is beyond description to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me, I see the pain inside your heart
For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I can't tell you of the splendor or the peace here in this place
Can you just imagine Christmas with our Savior face to face?

I'll ask him to lift your spirit as I tell you of your love
So, then pray for one another as you lift your eyes above.

Please let your hearts be joyful and let your spirit sing
For I am spending Christmas in heaven and I'm walking with the King.

The words of the poem were very meaningful to me, and allowed me to really, truly look forward to Christmas with excitement like I haven't had in years. But probably not the way you think.

My parents were never especially celebratory. They were not big on gift-giving. No one would ever accuse Bill and Ann of being festive. Mom and Dad were strong, salt-of-the-earth folks; they just were never very merry and bright. Perhaps this book that my sister and I found when going through Mom's things explains it best:

Following Mom's tradition, we set out Great Aunt Ora's hand-painted nativity, dutifully placing the wise men afar, so as to remain biblically accurate. But when Ev and Nate hung our old school colorful Christmas lights this year, it was the first time this house has ever worn Christmas lights. And when Dave drilled holes for cuphooks under the mantel, it was the first time a row of stockings had a home there. We moved Mom's little tree with its single strand of white lights to the dining room bay window, in order to make room for our big tree, covered with a mosaic of ornaments and colored lights. We plugged in our little illuminated snowman, holding his sign, "Welcome, Christmas."

And welcome Christmas we did. It was a joyful time all month long with family and friends. It was filled with generosity and surprises, big and small. It was wrapped in the truth that God is with us.
God is with us.

For me, Christmas this year was free from the confusion of how to celebrate with my parents. No more wondering if they push us away because they truly want to be alone, or if they think they are freeing us up. No more trying to get things just right, not too much and not too little. No more guessing. No more wishing.

Because this year, I know Mom and Dad had the best Christmas ever. They celebrated like crazy, decorated over-the-top, hosted parties with tons of food, gave brightly-wrapped gifts to everyone, laughed and sang, and filled each other's stockings on Christmas Eve. Why?
Because they are with God.
Of course they are merry and bright this year.
They are with God.
How could they be anything less?