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Stand firm and shepherd his flockSunday, December 23, 2018
From Micah 5 Even piped-in Christmas music is suddenly more palatable again, although I must admit that hearing "Silent Night" in Rural King turned my head. The free popcorn turned it back again. Rural King does have lots of baby chicks, in case you're interested. Friday's night was the longest of the year. Yesterday we gained one full second, and today five seconds more. But mostly, this last Sunday of Advent is also the last day before Christmas Eve. There are elves everywhere trying not to panic. We wrapped the last presents for our Sandel Christmas party, and Margaret sliced vegetables for the relish tray. Our chickens contributed their eggs, and she deviled them. We headed off toward Lincoln. Over the river and through the woods. Like every year, the party was full of kids, age 15 on down to 4 months. Margaret organized a reading of the Christmas story and "Twas the Night Before Christmas," with Santa's miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. We had several gigantic white elephant gifts, including a too-big-to-wrap beautiful old Champion wooden sled which had to be retrieved from the garage. Grandma gave every kid a gift, via their parents. Oyster stew (after cleaning up the oysters which flew everywhere when the large can was opened and exploded), chili, cheesy hashbrowns, a fabulous cold meat pasta salad, cherry jello salad, spinach balls, fruit, and too many cookies, caramels, chocolate, a little wine, a few fizzy drinks. I'm guessing you know the drill. Mom listens to us but doesn't hear it all. She smiles and sits in the center of our family picture while she holds the baby. Everyone brings her a gift. I'm not sure what she'll do with all her new puzzles. Put them together, I guess. It's her favorite way to spend the morning. Mom asked Jim, our partly retired Episcopal rector, to pray after the Bible story. He said our family is "deeply steeped" in Christian values and beliefs. He asked for God's blessing on us. He spoke to God with confidence and joy. His words reminded me of the unearned grace of Mom and Dad's commitment not just to church, but to home devotions and prayer. They taught us to read. They taught us how to work hard and efficiently. Dad studied Frank Gilbreth's experiments with time and motion in college. I saw his book! He died on Thanksgiving Day in 2002. Mom and Dad were both 80 that year. I remember his posture when he sat with the lamp pointing at his Bible. Dad was a smart guy - University of Illinois accounting degree, very successful farming and dairy career, codebreaker (maybe) during World War II, although he didn't talk much about it. Great pinochle player. He spent most of his last couple of years reading the Bible, again and again. That's what mattered most. One of our wonderfully wild little kids (around 2) encountered me in the hall as she was exploring Grandma Angie's bedroom by herself. She looked at me. She put her finger to her lips and said, "Shhhh!" She repeated it in case I didn't hear. And she took off down the hall as fast as she could go. There are a hundred years of pictures in that hall. Mom has slept with and without Dad in that bedroom for 42 years. Her phone number hasn't changed. I am so glad to be with her still at Christmas, to be just that close to 96 years of joy. Your touch, Lord, on all our days, brings me home and lets me rest. There is no hurry, and I don't even need to be efficient. But there is that trust you call me to choose, not just to watch but open wide my arms, as you restore my soul. |
We are finding music this Christmas, first the "Messiah" and Friday night a festival of carols by Ecco at Emmanuel, the local Episcopal church.