CANCELLATIONS….

Ten minutes ago I sat down and tried to write about our current buzzword often heard in news reports whether it be television or radio….”cancel culture” or being “woke”. I had several paragraphs written and there was no magic, no aha moments inside the sentences, what I had written had no spark, no direction, was landing dull and very boring to be quite honest. So, thankfully keyboards come equipped with a “delete” key and I used it. I “canceled” my writing….it was a decision that came after reading through my work several times. I couldn’t convince myself that my work was worth redeeming or changing in the hope that all it was missing could be salvaged. I hit delete.

I wish I could tell you exactly what’s rolling around inside my head today–most days actually–when I have to hear about another person or event offending someone in our nation’s society. I don’t have that kind of time; it’s too exhausting to even think I could do justice to my dismay. Fortunately, I’m not allowing my discouragement to rob me of joy, hope, and peace…..

Recently, I attended the annual IF: Gathering, a conference for Christian women. One of the speakers, Jada Edwards, who was teaching from Psalm 23 “He leads me in paths of righteousness” say “Jesus started cancel culture”. I noted the catchy phrase and bracketed it in my notes. Everything inside me resonated with that declaration from her.

Travel with me to a memory from 2019. We visited Israel in March that year and one of the sites that impacted me the most was Caesera Phillipi. This is the site where many gods were worshiped and Jesus had a conversation with Peter where He asked “Who do say that I am?” Peter responded with “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God”.

I think Jesus and Peter–together–canceled false religions at that very moment. Culture and history as it was playing about some 2,000 years ago exploded with truth and paved the way for God to carry forth His plans of salvation for mankind. Peter’s declaration of defining “who” Jesus was became the cornerstone of the Christian faith, so noted in Matthew 16:18 “Jesus said to Simon (Peter), I also say to you that you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades will not overpower it”. 

Jesus met many challenges during His earthly ministry. He exposed motives *He sought peace *He applied scripture *He prayed *He remained silent *He loved

Those are quite worthy attributes to strive for in my humble opinion. How do His challenges meld with my musings today about “cancel culture”? 

I don’t have to accept lies from those in our society seeking to pave paths of unrighteousness.

I can remain in peace while applying scripture in conversations where His truth is needed. I can DO this prayerfully…and sometimes remain silent…until I am asked a direct question that deserves a truthful answer.

 I can love….without compromising or canceling  ALL that I know is truth….the truth of God, scriptures, and His plan for all of us living inside a culture that continues to create false gods and lies—-elevating them above God Himself.

This photo is a good representation of the feeder that stands next to our deck. Keeping seed filled to the brim is a weekly chore as our visitors have grown accustomed to dining to their heart’s content. We get a small variety of birds that perch on the cylinder….sparrows, wrens, chickadees, cardinals, woodpeckers, , blue jays,  juncos….I’m always intrigued by their antics as they jockey for position…flying to and fro from the feeder to surrounding trees in our yard and the neighbor’s, too, along the property line. They come on days of extreme cold as well as milder mornings bathed in sunshine or rain. Hungry appetites and empty bellies need filling.

So it is with me, too. When I wake each morning I have a longing in my spirit to grab my first mug of hot coffee, make my way to a favorite comfortable chair and open God’s Word to begin “dining”–or as I prefer to say–”feasting” on a portion of scripture to fill me and equip me for the day ahead. I never lack for a place to begin reading….using a devotional draws me to verses that most often “fit” with concerns lingering in my mind and heart. Faithfully, God always seems to “fill” my spiritual plate with exactly what I need…never floundering or hovering in a flurry of emotions trying to navigate my “spot” with Him. 

Watching the birds that visit our feeder offers me so many lessons. This past week as I caught glimpses of their activity, jockeying for position to feed, almost competing for a place on one of the several perches, I saw little creatures who have a common goal–get to the seed!  Also, I didn’t see any conflict or fighting. When a perch became available “someone” soon took a seat. Others, less fortunate to be on a perch, happily ate from the seed that had dropped to the ground. In their own way, each small bird found a way to eat and be satisfied.

Part of joy as a Christ follower is being part of a community that is welcoming and supportive through all of life’s challenges. I’m happy to be in such a body of people–my church family–especially men and women who are participating in daily devotionals offered through an app we have downloaded to our phones. The devotional is my own “feeder” and the numerous authors of a broad range of topics have provided endless opportunities for reading, studying, and reflecting on scripture. Like the various birds in our yard, my friends who are participating with me in these daily readings are a beautiful potpourri of personalities….each has his or her perspective on scripture and willingness to share honestly from their hearts how God speaks and inspires them….

I love how the simplicity and order in our little friends at our feeder does more than provide entertainment for me…indeed, they offer me deeper appreciation and understanding of God’s creation…giving me a glimpse of how “things” can and should work….when I do my part: show up…expect….be diligent and hungry….feast at the table He has prepared for me….dine with others who don’t have to jockey position at His table….because at HIS table there is ample room.

And, no one has to eat crumbs from the floor….

Strange question you may ask? Who’s your 2 am friend? Or you might say it this way–who are your friends that you absolutely know you could call at 2 am if something bad just happened to you….

Humans weren’t created to be alone or isolated. There’s no better proof of this truth than what we read in Genesis 2: 18 “Then the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Along comes Adam’s mate, Eve, in all her beauty and uniqueness as a female to be his companion, spouse, lover, and mother to his children. Together, they became quite the team.

The “second” definition of “community” is a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals (the sense of community that organized religion can provide) Today I want to expand my thoughts about community and its connection to the concept of having a 2 am friend…or more…

I am fortunate to have more than one 2 am friend. I actually have five such people in my life–all women by the way–and with the wonderful world of text messaging we can interrupt each other’s day with the simplicity of sending out one group  message. We share funny things that have happened in our families. We ask for prayer on a broad range of topics. We are open and honest–most of the time–on a variety of subjects that can cause many people to pull away or feel uncomfortable. We’ve known each other for over 30 years now–give or take a few–and affectionately refer to ourselves as “My Tribe”…one of our dear members calls us her “Warring Friends”….I usually speak of these women as “my tribe”….our daughter calls them “your praying mommas”….

I haven’t written a lot yet about my husband’s heart attack he suffered on January 31. A lot happened that day to prove how much a community of like minded friends….a “tribe” of 2 am friends were important to have in my life. I don’t believe it was ANY coincidence that on that Tuesday our group had been in a text thread for most of the day. Little did I know that at 4 pm I would need them in a way my mind wasn’t prepared for as I drove my husband to the nearest emergency room. Moving past the scene of him being put in a bed, numerous wires hooked up to his chest….hearing as though I was watching a movie “Mr. Kretchman , you’ve had a heart attack”…..”we are going to…..”  That’s when my mind literally went blank but also filled my thoughts with all kinds of questions at once, if that’s even possible.

I will never forget my own image I created around 5 pm. The ambulance team was on their way to another hospital for  Jim’s surgery and I found myself standing alone in the parking lot, holding two bags with his clothes and shoes. Who do I call first? My kids…..now what do I do? I messaged my tribe what had taken place and immediately they began responding “what can we do!?”

Within half an hour or so, Rick and Lisa arrived to drive me south to Trinity Health near Ann Arbor. With them was Deb, who drove my car to her home for safekeeping. The beauty of their helping me in my crisis was their selfless gift of taking care of me and later, loving on our children….going ahead of me (thank you Lisa the Bold!) to ask questions, get me to where I needed to be in a large hospital…my mind racing while still feeling paralyzed.

A recent message by one of our pastors highlighted my topic today…who are your 2 am friends? Our 7 year old granddaughter was with us in service that morning and even at her age she comprehended the idea as she leaned into me and whispered “Addie”….I, too, didn’t have to hesitate long answering the question. Who are my 2 am friends? Easy! Lisa, Cheryl, Deb, Robin, Janet.

Honestly, our “tribe” doesn’t sit around hoping or expecting tough stuff to come along that warrants initiating a group text calling out for help or prayer. We much prefer silly jokes, cute memes, or sharing a link from recipes to sermons…no, we all seek a peaceful blessed life as each one of us walks our journey God has for us. But! We know there is no hesitation to step into action when necessary, even when it means sacrificing time, material possessions, and changing up agendas. For that–and SO much more–I am blessed. I am grateful. I feel assurance that I am NOT alone in this journey we call “doing life together”.

I’m very grateful that God did not create us humans to be alone. I’m happy for modern technology that makes it possible to “call out” to my 2 am friends with one message through a group chat…that God connects me in ways unimaginable for times that are infathmobile. 

Who are your 2 am friends?

WAITING ROOM CONVERSATIONS

Put me in a line of people….a crowded room….a packed elevator….a waiting room….and I’m in my element. Do I enjoy and embrace the agony of “waiting”…standing or sitting for time to pass and deliver its intentions? Most likely not! Which is why my craving for conversation usually kicks in when I find myself in ANY of the above situations. On occasion, I’ve been gently teased or chastised when my “gift for gab” kicks in. I dislike quiet very much. Life is too short in my humble opinion to let a group of people in my midst go to waste…there’s things to learn…questions to ask….answers to be found tucked inside all those minds merely waiting for me to boldly lure them into comfortable lighthearted conversation. It’s an art! It’s a gift inherited by one of the greatest conversationalists of all time–my dad! I learned from the best…and most of all it’s fun and as I like to think….makes our world a wee bit kindler and gentler!

Recently I gave a ride to a very dear friend who needed to see her dentist for an emergency tooth problem. Rather than drop her off and return, I took a chair in the empty waiting room. At first it appeared that no one else was going to be visiting the dentist on this particular afternoon, but soon, that observation was wrong. Within minutes of us arriving a steady stream of people entered through the doors, mostly very young children. A ha! I declared quietly to myself–it’s a day off from school and these wise parents made cleaning appointments for their “littles”.

Two precocious young boys came into the building along with an older woman. She got them checked in and without much delay  both off for their appointments. She sat down near me and we both smiled at one another when our eyes met. I could tell she was tired…yawns and physical fatigue have a way of communicating non verbal evidence of life’s daily toil. “Are you their grandmother?”, I asked.

“Yes”….and the well was uncapped. Without divulging every detail I learned that the two boys “came to her” when they were 4 and 6. “I thought they were doing ok down in Tennessee”….”but I was wrong…I guess drugs took over” …her voice trailed off with an edge of sadness. “Of course I took them, but I’m old. I’m tired. I wasn’t ready for all the things children need…dentists, doctors, rides to baseball…school”…adding to her anguish was admitting that her husband was struggling with the unforeseen raising of two boys after being empty nesters. I listened with what I hoped were understanding eye expressions, an occasional nod in agreement, and lots of smiles, and words of encouragement, especially when they left to go home. “God bless you”, was all I could muster as she got those sweet energetic boys out to the car.

Next up, another sweet grandma with another set of boys, these much younger. The older of the two was in for a dental cleaning, too, and baby brother age 2 was in a stroller–probably for crowd control. Both were in their jammies which I found out later “was how they wanted to dress for the day and I wasn’t about to argue”…accompanied by a precious smile and nonchalant attitude that most grandmas display. She was younger than me and as we struck our conversation she volunteered the boys’ father was 6,000 miles away from home at the moment….her daughter was working and she had the boys for the day…she was very open about her diverse family…telling me the boys’ father is from Zimbabwe–they had brown curly hair and olive skin tones compared to her own features which she told me were East Indian. Goodness, she even told me about her son marrying a beautiful Jewish woman and how that caused some conflict with her orthodox father and this family’s Christian religion but as I listened to her describe her beautiful family I got the sense that “everything was working to the good of everyone”…it sounded like love was the common thread weaving people from different countries and cultures together into one beautiful piece of fabric.

After the waiting room emptied out, I was still waiting for my friend. My mind drifted to this question: I wonder how many grandparents are raising grandchildren? So, as I sat down to write, I did a quick search through the Internet and found the answer is approximately 2.7 million are in that role. Why? Sadly, the most common answer is due to addictions and overdose situations (www.pewtrust) Here are some other stats from www.fathermatter.org.

• 36% of grandparents who are raising their grandkids have done so for more than 5 years.
• Families that have a grandparent raising a grandchild help to save taxpayers over $6 billion each year because they keep those kids out of the foster system.
• 21% of grandparents who are taking care of their grandkids are living below the poverty line.
• Children who are placed with another relative makeup over one-quarter of the foster care system in the United States.

Personally, I have close friends who are raising two grandchildren. They came to their home as very young children and are presently in their teen years of junior and high school. My friends are in their early 70s and though they admit it’s not easy, it’s God’s faithfulness and grace sustaining them every day.

I applaud EVERY grandparent who has or will step in to take on the second go of parenting. Admittedly, I’m not sure I could do it without feeling angry, resentful, selfish…well, you get the picture. From the beginning of time, God’s plan was for parents to raise their children and send them off in due and proper time to establish their own homes. In a perfect world that would be picture perfect…sadly, it is not…as evidenced by my good friends….with my chance meeting with two grandmothers this week, one raising two little boys 24/7 and the other filling in the gaps for a working momma.

My husband and I have four grandchildren, too. We’ve done our fair share of care for working parents and we have enjoyed every minute of their precious time with us…we also admit older bodies take a while to recuperate from playtime, meal preparation, diaper changes, bathing, picking up toys…and though we miss them the moment a parent’s car leaves the driveway and we slump into a chair, we can’t wait to have them in our home again…

Cheers to EVERY grandparent raising and loving their precious offspring. Though I greatly respect these selfless folks, I freely confess it’s a group I don’t want to join…yet, IF for whatever reason I found myself being asked “Can you help with __________?” Would you hesitate to wager my response?

By the way, National Grandparents Day is September 10. I think I’ll mark the calendar–not to expect anything–but rather to be reminded to give a “shout out” and lift a BIG prayer for every grandparent with their “littles”, “tweens” or “teens” living under their loving care.

HEARTS

Here we are in the month of February…much of winter’s harshest days are behind us now….Christmas decorations have been safely stored away for another year…my snowmen are still guarding their spots…soon to be crowded out by the arrival of Valentine’s Day which means cards…hearts shaped candies…chocolates…and lots of love floating in the air. It also means that February is “Heart Month”…something I have NEVER paid attention to in the past but has taken on considerable significance after last week. On January 31 my wonderful husband had a heart attack while sitting in the comfort of our home.

Suddenly, chest pain, sweating and nausea took on an entirely new meaning to the question “how are you feeling?” as he lay back on our bed to take inventory of how and what he WAS experiencing in the immediacy of the symptoms. The next few minutes were a blur as I made a phone call…..got us loaded in my car and sped off to the local hospital which is about 13 miles away. An EKG confirmed our fears and our late afternoon, which is typically spent preparing for a weekly meeting we oversee, changed to one of him getting an ambulance ride to a distant hospital and me arranging my own transportation to follow….AFTER making necessary calls to our children.

The days that followed his attack included three stents being placed in his arteries…gaining a team of doctors and nurses that quickly became our lifeline for four days….sleeping through interruptions from nurses and constant beeping noises of machines monitoring his vitals. I summed up my experience as though I was watching a movie of someone else’s life….surely this wasn’t happening to us. My non-smoker/not overweight/healthy-looking guy stumped the doctors with a need for emergency surgery that saved his heart from severe damage….leaving both of us stunned and grateful–mostly that latter!

Our few days in the hospital have many other wonderful stories that came from our unexpected experience–trauma?–and I’m quite certain they will pop up in my blog in the near future. For now, it’s safe to say we are very excited to be home. Five new medications now line the cabinet in our bathroom….food choices are slowly being reviewed….thank you notes are being written to good friends and pastors from church who dropped everything in their lives to be by our side when we needed friendship and support the most.

So, I’m reflecting on “Hearts”….I have never enjoyed the game of Hearts….I don’t get caught up in giving my guy a gift on Valentine’s Day–although that may change this year?–I will probably send our grandchildren a little card to make them smile and feel loved.  I missed wearing red on the first Friday in February which is supposed to raise awareness about heart disease….red is my favorite color; I think I’ll wear it more often now. But, I DID make a donation to the American Heart Association through our oldest granddaughter’s school fundraiser…good timing on their part I’d say….

Having an issue with one’s heart is never a good thing, but thankfully–when something serious does happen…there ARE wonderful teams of physicians who enter your life unexpectedly and become your February is Heart Month heroes….along with everyone else that you cherish and love very dearly.

BUTTERFLY SOAP & STEALING

My goodness! You say,     what does butterfly soap and stealing have to do with one another? Well, let me tell you why….

“You shall not steal.” Deuteronomy 5:19

When our daughter was about three years old I took her on a quick evening shopping errand to a nearby linens store. Obviously I needed some new things for our home and leaving her home wasn’t an option since my husband worked evenings. Our shopping would be a quick in and out…I knew what I needed. When we got back home I discovered a butterfly shaped soap in the bottom of my bag, a soap that I had not purchased. It quickly occurred to me that maybe a pretty little girl’s eyes had spied something pretty…luring her small hands to put the soap inside my bag when I wasn’t looking after making payment for my items. Kids are quick…moms don’t always see their impish antics.

My question to Sarah about the soap was given an honest answer. Yes, she liked the butterfly soap and took it. She didn’t attempt to cover over her possession of the soap with a lie…honesty came easily which allowed me to have a teachable moment with her.

“Sarah, we need to take the soap back.”

“Why?”

“Because we didn’t pay for it. That’s wrong. It’s taking something that doesn’t belong to us”.

Back to the car we went…buckled her a second time in her car seat….made the short drive back to the store and walked up to the counter, facing the very same clerk who had cashed out my purchase. I placed the soap on the counter, looking into the face of a clerk who was pondering “what is going on…..”

“I need to return this soap. My daughter took it and put it in my bag without me realizing or paying for it.”

“You’re kidding, right?” The clerk provided me with a new definition of the word bewildered. Her eyes were wide with shock and her body was rigid with surprise.

“No, I’m not kidding. She took it. I didn’t pay for it”.

“Well, it’s no big deal…(smiling) trying to dismiss the little stolen soap as nothing to worry about.

“Oh, it is a big deal, to me, and my daughter needs to learn that taking something without paying for it is wrong”.

“Ok…..” (still startled)…

Would you agree that ‘stealing is stealing’ no matter the price of an item? Would you agree that if you take something…get caught….whether you stole out of childhood innocence or outright impure motives…that being caught is the perfect time to teach what is right, especially in God’s eyes? Sure, Sarah was a mere 3 years old…but what if she had been 13 and put something in my bag or her own purse? By then it’s referred to as ‘shoplifting’.

I remember when I was about 8 or so, I stole a pair of pink Barbie doll shoes from the Kresge Store. I put them in my pocket. My mother never found out. She never had the opportunity to teach me that I had stolen something. Silly as it may sound, whenever I placed those shoes on one of my Barbie dolls….I knew….I didn’t feel right inside. In fact, I never used those pink shoes if I was playing in front of my mother because I worried that she’d “know” HOW the shoes came into my possession….. I never told anyone about my own thieving experience until many years later when I thought “I better ask God to forgive me for taking those shoes….” yes, the shoes were small…but the act of taking something without paying can carry consequences if not dealt with properly. Those little pink heels were probably about 69 cents, too, and I’m pretty sure that experience taught me do do better with a 69 cents soap 25 years later.

Maybe you’re asking why I didn’t merely pay for the 69 cent soap and call it good. I guess it was because I didn’t need that soap…but my little girl needed a life lesson and as far as I know, I don’t think she’s taken things that don’t belong to her. If she has and I’m unaware….well, she’s an adult now…God can do some talking to her. Why didn’t I ask my mom if she would buy the 69 cents shoes for me? That remains a mystery….

Last week’s blog entry originated from memories when we moved into our new home where we basically raised our two young children until they became adults and moved into lives of college classes, jobs, creating families of their own. Both their childhoods have provided me with many fond memories, especially conversations as their young minds absorbed information along with comprehending or catching examples that my husband and I were intentionally giving them –or by accident– to grow up loving, knowing and serving God. Ephesians 5:1 says “Imitate God, therefore, in everything you do, because you are his dear children.” (New Living Translation) What does folding laundry and royalty have to do with each other?…

My husband was gone for a weekend, attending a Christian men’s conference. At the time our daughter was 8 and our son, 4. On Saturday evening I found myself alone in our bedroom, folding clean laundry and using the bed as my place to stack the piles of clean clothes…sorting socks to match them….making four neat piles for each one’s clothes….a weekly chore that took a couple of days to stay ahead of the task. 

The kids were either playing in their room or watching a TV program while I performed my laundry duties. In the middle of folding yet another clean towel our four year old son Daniel came bouncing in and announced with no introduction or fanfare “Ya know, mom, dad is the king of the house?” Hmmm, I thought…where’d this come from? Where’s he headed with THIS conversation? 

Perhaps too flippantly I answered “Well, then I guess that makes me the queen”….picking up the next article of clothing to fold thinking he was finished talking. 

“Well, I see dad reading his bible and that makes him a better king.” Gulp. I almost missed the moment. I honestly don’t remember what happened next or if we talked further regarding his observation. All I do remember is being in awe of a spiritual a-ha moment that now–some 30 years later–is still embedded in my memories that serve as an example of “we never know exactly how much our children are ‘catching’ from our everyday routines. “A better king…..”

I also remember that I didn’t use Dan’s four year old observation as an opportunity to preach to him…to hammer down additional truths from the bible that we parents sometimes do in desperation and fear that our children will reject God’s existence and make decisions that affect their eternal lives…no, I also recall feeling very humbled…a blanket of warmth wrapped around my heart as I acknowledged that in the middle of a routine weekly chore, God chose to use a little boy conversation to show me that we were being effective parents–flaws and all.

“A better king….implying that spiritual maturity and growth happens when we meet with God, read the Bible, spend time in prayer. We don’t do it to earn gold stars from God–we do it to deepen our relationship with Him and pass on to our children an inheritance of faith birthed in a Perfect King–Jesus–King of Kings and Lord of Lords,  Who has made a way for all of us to choose following in His footsteps to become “better kings”….and even “queens”….members of a royal priesthood. 1 Peter 2: 9 “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of Him Who called you out of darkness into His wonderful Light.” (New International Version)

P.S. In his own way now, our Daniel is becoming a “better king”, too. Just like his dad, like his grandfathers….like many in our families who came long before us…laying down a foundation of faith to be caught…taught…observed…sometimes with words and often with silent actions. 

Well, my 69th Christmas has come and gone….it wasn’t the celebration that I had anticipated when we entered the season of Advent…even though preparations for a beautiful day were on time…actually far ahead for me considering I’m a chronic procrastinator at times….gifts were purchased and wrapped, some baking was finished in order to enjoy a cookie or two during coffee breaks….our tree and other decor were in place early in December….all that needed to be finished was waiting for a good snow covering and having our children and grands in our home Christmas Day. Well laid out plans were canceled due to sickness hitting one of our children’s family…so opening gifts and enjoying a Christmas ham were delayed until New Year’s Day. But, those things are not the focus of my entry today. I want to take a look at comparing my current Christmases to some memories and practices that span my 69 years.

• Growing up, our family always had a “real” tree. I remember trudging through the snow with dad–his hatchet in hand–to choose “just the right tree”. This took time because so many opinions were involved, us three kids, dad and mom–if she wasn’t waiting in a warm car!  I was shocked to learn that artificial Christmas trees actually date back to the late 1800s, in Germany. Imagine metal wire trees covered in feathers from a goose, turkey, or ostrich! They were even dyed green to imitate pine needles. In the 1930s the Addis Brush Company created the first artificial -brush trees, using the same machinery that made their toilet brushes! Um, feathers? Toilet brush look a likes? No thank you. 
• I can remember Christmas cards lined up across the mantle above the fireplace in my childhood home. There were dozens from family, friends, dad’s co-workers. Mom was challenged each day when bringing in the mail– where to put the numerous cards that arrived every day throughout the month of December. When we were first married, I loved getting cards and made it a priority of my own to send out beautiful cards to loved ones. The task took up several evenings after dinner, but I felt it was a wonderful tradition to maintain, even when time was tight. Now? This year I think we received less than 12 cards–I’ve noticed that Christmas cards have been replaced with memes posted on social media–hitting every person who opens the app and sees the variety of greetings in their feed. Did you know that the Christmas card originated in England in 1843. Well, that’s what one article says. Hector Cole found a way to take advantage of England’s “penny post” system for sending correspondence. Look it up….maybe people aren’t sending cards for a couple of reasons….time, cost of a stamp. A confession? I sent out six cards this year, all to out of town folks.
• It’s not the extravagance or price of a gift that matters. I saw this when our grandchildren opened their gifts. Don’t get me wrong, they loved what we purchased and put under the tree along with their stockings. My husband gave our two grandsons a penlike magnet that extends for reaching tough spots. Can you guess the results? Yes, all four of the kids took turns seeing if it stuck to a variety of surfaces….an inexpensive purchase at our local hardware created lots of giggles while experimenting.

Christmas is one of my favorite seasons and days of the year. I have many fond memories from all the years that are behind me now…from childhood…early married years…watching our children grow and adding in their spouses and children of their own. We aren’t a perfect family, yet every time we get together on Christmas, there’s always conversations about their favorite memories, too. I’m careful to listen to them…hearing what made this holiday special to them…giggling over some of the gifts they have received….glowing with enthusiasm when giving gifts to us and one another.

Yes, Christmas looks different every year now…and that’s ok….we celebrate the birth of the Christ child…we attend Christmas Eve service at church….I “hope” for snow…and I have yummy treats in the pantry to go with coffee or hot chocolate while I sit by the glow of our Christmas tree–which is an artificial one–missing the years trudging through the snow to find a real one….missing our parents….missing the challenge of displaying oodles of Christmas cards…embracing the beauty of the season while creating memories that will be cherished no matter traditions or not….at least I don’t have “feathers” to clean up or wonder if people think my tree resembles a collection of toilet brushes….yup, we’ve come a long way. 

As I sit here–actually staring at my computer screen–my mind is full of ideas, memories, thoughts, questions, daydreams….it’s three days after Christmas and our family has not celebrated in the usual sense of being together, opening gifts, eating too much food and laughing as we create new memories and reminisce about past holiday get togethers. The tree was up and decorated in plenty of time. Gifts were purchased in early November, wrapped in December…ample time to keep any added stress out of the day as it approached. Things for our family were looking good until…..sickness hit.

My husband and I attended our church’s Christmas Eve service which we always enjoy. Typically, we are by ourselves on the eve of Christmas which is perfectly fine. Our grown children have other family to visit and are creating their own traditions with their kids.  I knew we’d all be together on Christmas Day. Things for our family were looking good until….sickness hit.

Our son, his wife, and their two young children became ill the Monday leading into Christmas. We started to pray and gather hope upon hope that all would be recovered by Christmas Day. Alas, the sacred day arrived and they were still quite ill nor was it truly safe for them to be around other family. So, Christmas in our home was postponed until Jan. 1. Prayers continue. A porch drop with food and medicines was made. Text messages and phone calls have been ongoing to keep everyone in the loop. Did we really skip or miss out on Christmas? Looking at our circumstances from a worldly view might answer that question with a resounding YES. A more honest response–one from a believer’s point of view–is a solid NO. We didn’t miss Christmas….it came as it does every year. Indeed, we were ready with gifts and food. Our minds and hearts were excited to see our kids and grandchildren, especially to watch them open their packages. We were feeling joyful and grateful–two emotions fueled by being with our church family to sing sacred carols, listen to scripture, and end with the lighting of candles in a darkened room that welcomed the familiar words of “Silent Night”. 

Now, three days after Christmas, as I’ve been in a variety of conversations the first question posed to me has been “so, how was your Christmas?” I found myself in a quandary about explaining the circumstances of what should have been a typical December 25. I have come to realize that an honest evaluation of Christmas 2022 is simply this….we didn’t have a terrible Christmas…we are having a “different” Christmas. We haven’t “missed” Christmas–it didn’t pass us by as though ignoring all of our preparations. Christmas 2022 will look different, but our reasons for celebrating, decorating, gify buying, being with church family on December 24 remain steadfast. My husband and I celebrated Christmas. Our children and their families also celebrated, too…even though this year looks different.

Christmas Day can look very different every year, kind of like how I trim our tree. Each year I mix up the ornaments that hang from the branches. The packages under the tree are a variety of sizes and as the kids grow, their gift ideas change, too. We try to keep some traditions such as filling a stocking for each family member…making homemade chex mix…hoping for Uncle Paul’s cheesecake…our daughter in law making “Uncle John’s peanut butter balls”…frosted sugar cookies.

Christmas Day “things” for our family have always been good…even when sickness hit this time around….our joy remained. “So, how was your Christmas?” you ask….”it was good, it was different.” Christmas Day still happened…even with a few family members not around the tree….yet. It will be Christmas Day on January 1 for us this year. I can’t think of a more wonderful way to begin a new year. As long as sickness doesn’t hit again.

Years ago–when our children were young–when the Christmas season rolled around I found myself contemplating what I would begin to collect and put on display to create a festive atmosphere in our home. I gave careful thought to my musings…as a Christian I wanted to present the right message for “the reason behind the season” which is Jesus…I also wanted “something” I could have in our home that could come out “earlier” in cold weather and stay a few weeks past Christmas and New Year’s Day.

I considered angels. They’re beautiful, right? With their golden halos and white wings…some adorned in white robes while others dressed in more elaborate colors and sashes…some singing….some in prayer. No, I told myself–there are “some” people who worship angels or have misconstrued notions about their role in the heavenlies. I discarded that idea.

Then I thought of Santa’s. . Goodness, how many different kinds of Santas and St. Nick figurines fill store shelves every year! And while I think the story behind Santa is an appropriate lesson on caring and generosity, well, in my humble opinion the jolly round red man in a suit has taken much away from the original man we fondly refer to as St. Nicholas…and in some homes, Santa has replaced Jesus as the focus of Christmas and, well,  another well….I couldn’t bring myself to begin collecting Santas. I do confess I have a set of Santa figurines though…inexpensive ones….that belonged to my mother and they do sit on a shelf every Christmas. Afterall, memories from childhood have a dear place in my heart and truly do add to warm thoughts of family traditions.

So, no Santas. No angels. What could possibly remain!  I settled on snowmen! Aren’t they quite neutral? …come in all sizes and materials….foam, cloth, wood, styrofoam, porcelain….So, snowmen it was and continue to be with each winter season.

What if my snowmen could talk? These two little guys are Irish I guess. I purchased this duo years ago when a local businesswoman owned a store that was “all things having to do with Ireland”. Though I don’t have very much Irish in me, I bought them because they were so cute decked out in green scarves, holding a sign with some of my favorite words “Let it Snow”…smiles on their faces which in turn causes me to grin every time I look at them. I do wonder what they are thinking about….

Above my little Irish guys is my patriotic snowman. He wears red white and blue with much pride as he waves his flag in tribute to our wonderful nation, especially to those who serve in our military—past and present. He insists on standing next to war medals that my father earned in World War II and later in the Korean Conflict. I’m very happy that his arm never seems to get tired as he waves Old Glory….and we both are thrilled that “she” has survived many warm months tucked away after all the snow has melted.

Cleaning out my father in law’s home brought this more regal looking man to my collection. He belonged to my father in law’s second wife, Gramma Joan, as we lovingly called her. Joan loved all things wintry and Christmas…she had angels, Santa’s, and snowmen! Dressed up in his wintry best of gold and silver accents, he makes the perfect companion to snow covered trees that I discovered in Joan’s boxes of Christmas decor. I couldn’t toss him or donate him to a place that might never find him a loving home, so he was scooped up by me and seems very content to stand guard by lovely faux pines.

These are but a few of my beautiful snowmen collection. They are quite content every winter. They never complain about where I ask them to stand from November to January….sometimes into February…depending on our snow accumulation. They are happy men and women doing a simple task….keeping our home somewhat festive after the Christmas tree and other decor is safely tucked away for another year. They are conversation starters with all who come to our home for a meal or brief visit….they are fun things to look at and get touched by small hands from little grandchildren.

Their family has ebbed and flowed in number during the past 20 plus years. Some of their friends needed to move on…others didn’t survive a collision with misguided hands…some, well, for some “it was their time” if you get my drift….even snowmen have numbered days or years….

Admittedly my snowman family is a source of yearly light hearted teasing from my husband who will invariably ask about mid January “are the snowmen staying out until Easter this year?” And, true to my nature, I sigh and respond….”well, if there’s snow on the ground, you know…..” and that’s when I wish I had a snowman who’s rolling his eyes. He’d be a portrait of my husband’s demeanor in that moment of giving up…..