I'm Mary...

One Christmas, Mom and I were Christmas shopping in a Hallmark store in Houston, two preschoolers in tow. We had just picked the girls up from Mother’s Day Out and run in for a minute. It was one of those hoity-toity stores where the clerks follow you around from aisle to aisle just waiting for you to break something, so we each quickly grabbed the hand of one of the kids.

Ashley had on that cute little red Christmas jumper with straps that tied at the shoulder and were finished with green Christmas tree appliqués that hung down the front of the dress. I don’t know when or how she got away, but after only a few minutes, I looked up and saw my little red- headed pixie climb up on a rocking horse in the window display, pull the back of her dress up over her head like a shawl, pooch her skinny little stomach out as far as she could manage and loudly announce, “MY NAME IS MARY. AND I AM JUST ABOUT READY TO HAVE THIS BABY.” I grabbed her off the rocking horse, turned to Mom and said, “Lets go, Granny. Ashley is about to deliver,” and we rushed out of the store in stitches!

Every Christmas we look back and realize that at every turn of the road we never really realized how blessed we were. The kids were only little a few minutes, it seemed, and we sometimes didn’t find the time to enjoy every minute of it!

This year is no different, except now it is easier to see... Christmas blessings from me and my house, to you and yours.

The Nuts and Bolts Nativity

The little church we went to when our kids were preschoolers had very limited resources. Looking back, we probably didn’t need that much, to start with... We just had one class of babies, one class of one year olds, one class of two year olds, and so on. So maxxing out at about 5 preschool classes, we just didn’t need THAT many resources. Except in December. Except at Christmas.

It really was a challenge to share the one Nativity puzzle we owned among all the Sunday School rooms when everyone ultimately needed it the same day. We decided that when one teacher finished using it, they could run it down the hall to the next room so the next class could take a turn.

I’ll never forget the day it happened. My friend Emily was teaching the four year old class. She set up the block corner and added the one container we had with all the various sized nuts and bolts in it. Nuts and bolts are a great “manipulative” and a wonderful home made puzzle, as the kids can spend a lot of time matching the correct sized nuts to the correct sized bolts. Promotes cognitive thinking skills as kids match the sizes, fine motor coordination as they screw and unscrew all the nuts, and all that preschool developmental jazz.

But in the middle of Sunday School, in the block center, the most astonishing thing happened in the four year old class that long ago December day. As I was delivering the puzzle to Emily’s room, she waved me off. “We don’t need it today. Look.” It was there on the floor in the block center .

The biggest nut and bolt had become Joseph. The medium nut and bolt had become Mary. The itty bitty one was, of course, the baby Jesus. And all the other nuts and bolts were gathered around in worship.

The kids had figured it out as they played in the center and Emily told them the Bible story.

Teachable moment…. Especially for me.

Don't Forget the Wonder

It’s Christmas again.

I remember the year it seemed like Christmas for the very first time…sharing the wonder of His birth with our then little two-year old daughter, Kari. She was hearing the angels singing for the very first time, seeing the lights and the Star, and knowing the joy of His birthday is such a fresh, sensitive way.

If she asked me once, she asked me a hundred times, “Mommy, Jesus was born in a barn???” And it bothered her so much that she renamed her only baby doll “Baby Jesus” and prepared Him a bed in her room, beside hers, in a tiny doll bassinette with lots of warm blankets, and pillows and …and that’s the secret of joy, isn’t it? Prepare Him room. Let every ♥ prepare Him room.

And don’t forget the wonder…

Christmas Musings

I guess I learned to love Christmas from my Dad. It was, hand’s down, his favorite time of year. Enchanted by the delicious magic of it all, his blue eyes twinkled brighter at Christmas than any other time. The things I remember most are the things Mom and Dad did with us, and in making our own entertainment we were rich beyond imagination… Driving around looking at Christmas lights, watching people at the mall (especially children), huge extended family holidays at Mama Jo’s old sprawling Oklahoma farmhouse with more people than you could count,

lying by the tree and watching the lights twinkle to the Christmas music Dad always kept playing. (Back in those days, the lights were bigger and had individual “twinklers”, not like the strands we have today. Dad named them after choir members at church to get an even bigger laugh…the one that always came in late was “Dave”, etc.)

Family was priceless, friends were always welcomed, snuggles were longer and warmer, and Christmas came amidst the beauty of it all.

Mr. Tom's Nativity

I prepared an “optional” game for the kids that came to our really fun preschool teacher’s Christmas party last night. It was entitled “FIND THE NATIVITY SCENES” and the object of the game was to wander through the house and write down all the Nativity Scenes that you see. Because, you see, as I was decorating for Christmas I suddenly realized that there were at least 17 different Nativity Scenes of some sort around the house. Simple enough. Or so I thought.

Here is one.

And another one.




And another.



But here is one that my friend, Mr. Tom thought he found.

Don’t you think that is stretching it a little? He thought i was trying to sneak one by him...right there between the muscadine jelly and the Christmas cactus. Honestly, Mr. Tom. Maybe he had just read my story about Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell, and was going for Baby Jesus in an Acorn.

The Gift

Grief is powerful.

Ten years ago in early December, my Dad went Home. I remember that first Christmas, how I was ambushed by waves of grief when I least expected it. Like one day in Dillards, when O HOLY NIGHT, Dad’s favorite Christmas song, came over the loudspeaker, and I had no where to turn from the raw and painful emotions. I hid in the clothes rack for a while, then just finally handed the sales clerk my purchase with tears streaming down my face, and no explanation on my lips.

Or like when we went to see Mom, and I would go in Dad’s closet when no one was looking, so I could hold his clothes up to my face and breathe in that wonderful, sweet, rugged Dad aroma. Dad smelled so good. So familiar. I could just stand there and breathe deeply and actually still smell him. Something so tangible I could hold on to...so I could remember him.

You never knew when it would just come over you from nowhere. A song, a smell, a child’s laugh, anything precious could trigger it without warning. Yet as time began to heal the painfulness of absence, it happened less. Mom eventually cleaned out Dad’s closet. Time passed. Things changed.

But back to the gift.

Duane brought it home from work this week. A navy blue Mr. Rogers sweater of Dad’s. Mom gave it to Duane during the closet cleaning era, and Duane kept it at his office in case he ever needed to warm up at work. He said he didn’t’ know what to do with it so he brought it home -- had rarely worn it and needed the closet space now. I held the folded sweater up to my face. Inhaled. Remembered . After ten years, surprisingly, unmistakably...it still smelled like Dad.

You never realize the things you will miss the most -- their smell, their voice, their handwriting…. The things that you can no longer have once they cross over.

But this Christmas, I received a gift.

Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell

My daughter, Kari, called this week with this question:
“Mom, would you be upset if I used “Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell” as a White Elephant gift?

Sigh. I remember the very night she made Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell. She was four. It was at Joys of Christmas, a wonderful child focused Christmas celebration at the little church we went to. My best friend and I were preschool and children’s ministers and Joys was our solution to beginning the Christmas season focused on the biblical celebration of His birth. It was an evening of untold wonder, capped by the Hanging of the Green worship service where the focus continued on the children, who with their families participated fully in the evening worship, and decorated the church for Christmas.

“I guess not, sweetie. But…do you really want to…I remember the very night you made it.”

“Exactly. You remember it. I don’t. And don’t you still have another one?”

“Yes. I just hot glued the other Baby Jesus in a walnut shell’s bonnet back on last night.”

“Mom! That’s the point. Baby Jesus didn’t have a bonnet.”

Sigh. “Whatever. It’s yours.”

The next day I got this text: Titus found Baby Walnut Jesus and would like to hang him on his tree in his room. (Titus is three) Thought that would make you smile.

Then thirty minutes later, this text: Now he is hanging walnut Jesus on Elli’s pigtails. o.k. walnut is a keeper.

Hope your Christmas is a keeper, and likewise makes you smile.

Christmas 2008

So we were a little ambitious with all the plans described in my earlier post, "Home is Where the Heart is", and we didn't factor in time eater-uppers like lost luggage and extreme temperatures....but all in all, Christmas was a sweet time. And at least we were mostly all together...except for Ashely's husband, Nick, who is in his second year of residency and could not get away. However in his honor, Ashley made a little foil Nick to represent him. (Isn't it sweet? She's holding his little foil hand!)

So the best thing about Christmas was just being together. And the second best thing was that Titus gave us our grandparent names. I am now "Nana". Duane is now "Baba". Titus can't say his "P's", so we were thinking he meant "Papa." But when Kari corrected him, "You mean Papa." Titus said, "NO. Baba."

We have since discovered that Baba is "a very old African grandfather." Interesting.

Here are some other favorite pictures from our sweet Tennessee Christmas.

Besides a Christmas Eve Service with Tammy Wynette and her son singing, "Christmas Shoes", and thin, scratchy towels...everything was simply wonderful. I missed Christmas in Houston, but i wouldn't mind doing this again!

Home is Where the Heart Is

I haven’t been this excited about anything in a long time, as I am about Christmas this year. While the deepest desire of my heart is just to have my chicks at home under my wing for Christmas, ALL my chicks at MY HOME, that is…sometimes we just have to chuck it and go for what works. Since Kari and Danny live 20 hours east and Ash and Nick live 18 hours north, and none of them have vacation time or resources to drive/fly home for 3-4 days-- we decided to meet somewhere more central to everyone. So we are spending Christmas in the smoky mountains!!! Sevierville, Tennessee, to be exact (and that, by the way, is pronounced by the natives as SA – VEER- VUL). Weird, huh?

So the plans include packing up all our worldly possessions and moving to a cabin in the smokies for Christmas week. On the agenda is cutting a tree and decorating with ribbons and cranberries, a nighttime trolley ride to look at billions of lights in Gatlinburg during their “Winterfest”, hiking in Cades Cove (please please let us see a bear…), an afternoon of geocaching in the smokies, hugging on the grandkids, a Christmas eve service at a local church, Christmas movies, family Christmas worship, family game night, and the most creative gift exchanges we could come up with. We are using themes for our gift exchanges and making or buying $2 gifts that can be kept or stolen. (The first night, something red. The second night, something that begins with the letter “m”, and the last night, something fun/funny.)

I heard a very wealthy man a very long time ago talk to a group of struggling young married couples about what was really important in life. As impassioned as he could be, he stated simply…make good memories. I’m in!

Christmas Blessings...

One of my favorite Christmases was the year our Ashley was born. This redheaded little baby girl was invited to be baby Jesus in the Christmas pageant at church. I’m sure it wasn’t her acting ability, as she was only about five weeks old, so it was probably the fact that she was the only baby about the right size whose parents would let her participate. So I got to be Mary, and Duane got to be Joseph and I’ll never forget the moment I picked her up out of the manger and they saw that it was a real baby …an audible gasp arose from the congregation. A little hand stuck out of the blanket and wiggled…A real baby…
Or maybe it was the song that followed that brought it home.

That night.

“That night, in all of heaven, there wasn’t a sound

As God and the angels watched the earth.

For there in a stable, the Father’s only Son

Came to give Himself through human birth.

And when the cry of a baby pierced the universe

Once for all man was shown his worth.

And the heavens EXPLODED

with music everywhere

and the angels spilled over heavens edge

And filled the air!

And the Father rejoiced

For He did not lose His Son,

But He gained to Himself forever

Those who’d come.”

A real baby.

Christmas blessings to you and your house, from me and mine!

Christmas thoughts

So this little girl , all of two-and-a-half years old, walks into the preschool area at church the Sunday we put up the Nativity scene, runs up to it, throws her arms into the air and points to the star and screams with all due drama... "the STAR! the STAR!!!"


This is the Nativity scene from last year, with my crazy family doing the biblical role-playing.