Christmas Day
December/25/2006 08:34 AM
As always I am the first one awake here in the early morning. The sound of the heater working and the flicker of Christmas tree lights are the only sound and movement besides the animals. All four cats are prowling about, wishing the rest of the house would awaken. Cheddar is trying to get one of the other cats to play with him. When that fails he will climb in a cupboard or think of some other kind of mischief. Old Bruin, the Golden Retriever Catahoula mix, is lying on his bed not far from me as I type. The other two dogs, an incredible black Lab we call Orson and a wonderful Heeler named Gypsy we rescued with their puppies (and only found homes for the puppies so far). They've gone outside to sniff the morning and perhaps will decide to do a walkabout of the territory they decided was theirs when they were completely on their own. I’m not sure how big it is, but sometimes they are gone for several days. We try not to think of them as ours, but I’m pretty sure they claim us as their humans.
I sit here sipping mint tea with a little honey and a lot of half and half from an insulated Chevron mug, a gift from a friend at Mercy Ships. I sit and I contemplate the wondrous peace and quiet of the morning, the presence of God and the musings of my own spirit.
The first thing that washed over me when I got up was thankfulness. It’s a good way to begin any day, no matter what the circumstance. Truly memorable, though, when it comes unbidden. In this case I was remembering a night a few years ago when I was lying on a camping mattress on the floor of our living room, huddled against the cold in a sleeping bag, wearing these same sweats I am wearing now. The studio was in our bedroom and Jim and I usually slept on a mattress put down at night in the space his office chair occupied during the day. However, my snoring (yes I must admit it) and the cramped conditions were making it hard for him to sleep, so I had moved my carcass out to the living room temporarily to see if he would sleep better that way until we could find a way to remedy both problems.
There was a love seat and a nice cumfy chair in that tiny living room, but the love seat was far too small to sleep in all night and the recliner, though comfortable at first, didn’t let me get a good nights sleep. Oh, I would sleep, but always on the edge of waking - always dreaming - and wake up exhausted. The floor and the camping mattress were infinitely better, even though there was a noticeable draft.
It was Christmas then too. I remember waking up in the still darkness of the early morning to the blinking Christmas Tree lights. As I lay there then, wondering when the children would awaken and sally forth from their bunk beds, surveying my little house by the light of a blinking Christmas tree, the same thankfulness overwhelmed me. That single wide trailer had been GIVEN to us. Granted it wasn’t in the best of shape, but Jim had redone the sub floors and fixed and painted. We had acquired carpet for free. The living room furniture we paid for, but not much. Jim had built a wonderful big island table in the kitchen that was, indeed, a multi purpose surface and beautiful besides. It had cabinets in its base, effectively doubling my kitchen cabinet space. There was an awesome porch he built with his own hands and the mobile home sat butted up against a wooded area from which we had cleared the underbrush during our morning exercise/work-times together. It was positively park like. That little trailer was an icon in my heart that morning of more than 25 years of God’s continuing and “outside the box” provision for us. He certainly put in us a creative spirit, but that alone could not account for all the wonderful provision that surrounded me. His promises to me stood strong. If I sought His kingdom first he would take care of my daily needs - or - as he whispered in my ear as a teen “If you will help me take care of the needs of others, I will personally see to yours.”
The fact that the mobile home had been donated was awesome, but the fact that it sat on 10 acres that God had provided was truly incredible. My heart pulsed with thankfulness that morning as I came fully awake beneath the Christmas lights in conditions most people would associate with poverty. But to me it was bounty. It was God’s gift of continuing provision to me. For that moment in time, it was all I needed and more.
So this morning when I came stumbling out of my room after sleeping beside my husband on a king sized bed, (Granted it’s a room still shared with his studio, but what a studio it has become!) and I surveyed the much larger and more wonderful habitat that God has provided since that day years ago, that memory and those waves of thankfulness returned full force and with interest.
Everywhere I look I see the things and the evidence of the people God has put in my life. Things I have not sought hard after. People I am amazed with and thankful for every day. As I sift through the cards and the updates and the emails I am filled with wonder at the truth of His promise to me.
If my life had been an experiment I would have to conclude, after all these years, that God is real, His promises true, his love tangible. Like the wind we cannot see as it grabs at our coat and blows through our hair, so his love has blown me to a place I could never have traveled alone and given me such love as I never would have dreamed.
The ghost of Christmas past visited me early this morning and washed me with wonder as I sat here enjoying the God who created each day in his love (including the solstices) and who’s birth as a man we honor on this day. It is hard to fear any future when His love continues undiminished and His promises are as sure today as the day I first realized they could apply to me.