Christmas Eve

"A love like this the world had never known . . ."

It’s Christmas Eve. I went to an evening worship service, drove home in a frigid rain, and heated up the leftover half of a Chipotle chicken burrito for dinner. I know it sounds rather pitiful, but it’s okay. I’ve got a fire in the fireplace, Christmas songs playing on the iPod, and a glass of red wine. I read all three Gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus and then read part of Dickens’ Christmas Carol. And I tried playing some Christmas songs on the banjo. It’s okay. I’m alone on Christmas Eve, but I’m going to make it. I’m not going to freak out, gnash my teeth, or cry. It’s really okay.

Well, I might cry a little because I miss my dad and my brother, because I miss Mike. But I’m not dwelling on the sadness, I’m going to bask in the blessings.

So let me count just a few of the major blessings:

I talked to my nephew Jasen this morning on the telephone. A few months ago we didn’t know if Jasen would survive. He was in a horrible car wreck—broken bones and traumatic brain injury. He was in a coma for weeks. But he’s home now, still healing, and he has come so far. Thank you, Lord. Thank you.

My kids and all five grandchildren are doing well. Thank you, Lord.

Mike became a Christian in the weeks before he died. Let me repeat that just to remind myself—Mike became a Christian! I am still in awe of the power of God. I am still amazed at the surprises he has up his sleeve. So when I cry about Mike being gone, I can also be so grateful for God's wondrous work. Thank you, Lord.

The blessing of knowing that God sent his own son to be our savior—how amazing is that?!! Nothing I do EVER could repay God. Nothing could be enough. So I don’t have to worry about earning my salvation. It’s done. God loves us, he loves little old me. That’s a great big love. Thank you, Lord. Thank you.

Merry Christmas. And happy birthday, Jesus. Thanks for coming down here with us.