Christmas Eyes

“What did YOU enjoy most about Christmas?” my husband asked me as I sipped my breakfast coffee. “Let’s see. . . having all our family plus Matthew together. . . Hearing our son sing beautifully at the Christmas Eve service. . . seeing him lead the choir. .. . What did YOU enjoy most?” “Yes, that and. . .hearing ‘our kids’ laughing as they played speed scrabble last night while you warmed up the Christmas leftovers…” “ Seeing everyone enjoy each other…. seeing everyone’s unique personality and pleasure as they opened gifts….Seeing Philip’s pleasure. He felt like family,” I added. “ “Our Christmas shopping trip to Sumner and lunch at the Windmill Café. . .” Don remembered.

This is a game Don and I have played after Christmas for over forty years. I enjoy the game. It isn’t planned. But it always happens. Each year we seem to find a few quiet moments after Christmas where one of us asks the question. . . and then we begin sharing our deep joy in the simple blessings of the Christmas season. My husband is usually the initiator. I think it is because he often enjoys things most in retrospect and it is an important part of the total Christmas experience for him. On the other hand, I enter quickly into the immediate events of Christmas. Still, I find this exercise not only enjoyable but also helpful in getting perspective. Once we begin the game, we forget about the difficult holiday happenings. They are overshadowed by its joys.

This Christmas season, much like each of our 42 years together, has had its sadness and difficulty. A neighbor on our street was suddenly killed a week before Christmas, leaving his young family bereft. Every time I drive by the house, my Christmas heart feels the stab of pain. Several of our friends and acquaintances are seriously ill. Some of the Christmas cards we receive in the mail, tell of deaths and sicknesses. Christmas morning we received a call telling of the death that morning of a church friend. Heading home after a Christmas Eve church service, we had a scary few minutes on the freeway when our daughter’s car heated up and we had to have it towed to the auto shop. Like most families who all come together mainly at holiday time, we have had awkward moments, occasional misunderstanding, need to explain or say, “I am sorry.” We all have hurting places that will take more than a Christmas to heal.

But as we play our breakfast game of what we enjoyed most, I see and feel the events as though my heart rewinds and plays a video. I see our family all in a row at church together on Christmas Eve. I see my younger daughter’s joy as she sits between her boyfriend and her much loved sister. . . I hear the laughter of each of my children. . . as my grown son plays Santa and distributes the Christmas gifts under the tree. . . I feel again the invigorating cold as my husband and I walk down the decorated city streets, poking into little shops and searching out unique stocking stuffers for our adult family. I see Jill’s shining eyes as she opens Matthew’s Christmas gift and I feel his warmth toward each family member. I see Matthew strumming his guitar and hear the blending of family voices on Silent Night. I hear Jill’s clear life-affirming voice as she leads our Christmas Eve worship time. I see my son putting together my surprise Sky Café, a bird feeder from our East coast friends. I feel the excitement as I open the package and discover a fresh Christmas wreath, a gift from dear but distance friends. I feel the warmth and fun between Beth and me as we assemble ingredients and daringly change the recipes according to our mutual choice and family tastes. And we laugh when it doesn’t turn out and cheer when it does. I feel again deep joy as I see Beth reading next to the fireplace, drinking in the warmth of fire and family. I hear the Christmas carols ringing through the house as I sweep, dust and decorate. I hear the smile in my friend Idy’s voice as we sip coffee and share Christmas gifts. I feel love in my brother’s voice across the miles. I see the delight as Todd and Beth rediscover childhood tree ornaments and decide where they should go on the tree. I feel the love of family and friends as we read news and good wishes in colorful Christmas cards picturing Mary and Child, carolers, bells, holly, snowmen and other symbols of the season. I smell the wassail and feel again the satisfaction of my table set with turkey, cranberries, corn, rolls, stuffing, mashed potatoes, yams and green bean casserole, and hot fudge pudding cake and all the family circled around the dining table where we have served up food with conversation for over thirty years.

As I paused in semi darkness on our stairway early Christmas morning, I was caught by the simple beauty of our lighted Christmas tree. I stood there for a few moments to let thankfulness seep into my being. With those Christmas lights came a life insight.

Christmas is life in miniature. At this season there are times of reverent carols and lighthearted Santa songs, dreams of white Christmases, trees and presents, special church programs, fellowship and food. For some there are also financial difficulties, sicknesses and death, painful relationships, loss, and disappointed hopes. But at the core is the truth that Christians celebrate on Christmas Day: God became man. He lived among us. He endured temptation, deprivation, and death. Sinless, he conquered death that we might live now and forever. Yes, life for us includes sorrow as well as joy, pain as well as peace, failure as well as success, fear as well as hope. But at the core is the strength of God’s love giving us courage, showing us beauty, bringing us joy.

We must acknowledge those moments of gift: standing on a stairway seeing Christmas lights, looking into a loved one’s eyes, hearing a beautiful song, sharing a deep truth. We need open eyes to see the beauty God has given us and open hearts to receive his gifts. We must savor the beautiful moments, live life to its fullest, knowing that the Creator of our world and Author of our lives will continually give us the strength to solve problems, the courage to face pain, forgiveness for our failures, and hope for our future here and one day with Him.

So this day, I savor the beautiful simple gifts of the season and pray with a favorite author, Macrina Wiederkehr, “Jesus, we long for Christmas-eyes...that see. . .” all year long. (Macrina Wiederkehr, Seasons of your Heart)