Christmas Morning

It is early on Christmas morning. We have few plans for the day. We celebrate Christmas with our children and grandchildren the Sunday before Christmas, to make schedules easier. So, today will be simple. We will join Emily and Doug for breakfast, mostly to enjoy the fun and excitement of the children showing off their new toys. The rest of the day will be spent packing. That's ok, it will be good to get that done. And, we had a great time on Sunday, enjoying a meal together, giving gifts to the grandchildren (it's always the cheapest, simplest, last minute item that ends up being the favorite toy), and having a gift exchange game with the adults.

Yesterday, Christmas Eve, was a hard day for me. This was the first Christmas after losing my Dad, and my Mom has declined drastically since last Christmas. A few other situations were also on my heart, which altogether made me sad. We ran a few errands during the day, really didn't have enough to keep occupied, then arrived at my sister's house just as she and her son were taking my mother into the house.  Mother was having a good day. She enjoyed being surrounded by her family. She "walked" around in her wheelchair and hugged every one, smiling, visiting.

The most difficult part of the evening for me was our traditional singing of Christmas Carols. We tried to remember when we started this, but all we could come up with was that close to 50 years ago, my parents went to a party where they sang songs, and they copied the song sheet that was used (I can't figure out how they made copies then), and we have been singing every Christmas Eve since then. My Dad lead the singing for many years, until he passed the responsibility on to one of his grandsons. Although Jon officially lead, Dad continued to start every song. As soon as we ended one, before we could catch our breath, he would start the next one, and he sang them fast, even Silent Night. Daddy enjoyed this so much. He loved being with his family, and being in the living room together singing the traditional songs of Christmas was the best. So, doing this without him was hard. I sat by my mother, who sang out with so much enthusiasm. She tries so hard to do things and she has a great attitude. It was sweet to hear her sing those songs she loves so much, but also so sad. I tried hard not to cry because I knew that would be upsetting.  As I told my sister at the end of the night, it was a good night, hard to get through, but worth it.

This morning, I woke up at 5:00 to the sound of thunder. I had to get up to see if it was actually raining, and it was. It was raining hard, and still is. Two hours of steady rain is such a gift. We need it so badly. Last night, the weather forecast showed possible rain or snow in the afternoon, but not in Stephenville, which was too far south. I prayed again for rain, asked God to please send it our way.

When I got up this morning, and stood on the porch watching the rain, my heart felt that this was a promise, that God is going to come through in some new ways, a reminder that He is here, that He can and will do the unexpected, unpredicted, unexplainable.