Christmas Eve (eve)

Yesterday I was recounting/recalling the events of Christmas Eve eve (Dec 23) from two years ago. Long story short: My mom fell through a ceiling and had to go to the emergency room, my brother and I had just moved in with her to a new house with ZERO furniture put together, the kitchen sink was broken, the hot water didn’t work, our grandparents would be there the next day– yeah, we were a mess.

We stayed up all day calling people and driving to stores to get the stuff we needed to put the house in order and generally trying not to lose our dang minds, but we didn’t sleep the night before, what with the whole MOM IN THE HOSPITAL thing. That night, I went to a church thing and saw my friend who asked me if I was okay, probably not expecting me stare daggers at him and reply:


but he just hugged me and held me until I was done crying and then brought backup over to my house the next morning and fixed everything. By the night of Christmas Eve, the house was not only in perfect order, it was decorated and comfortable and fun.  It was like all the chaos, after the fact, was really just the perfect means of bringing things to order.


I’m trying to turn my heart to the savior this season. It seems idiosyncratically difficult just now. The connection and assuredness that typifies my relationship with God is, achingly, missing. I still love him and know he’s there, it just feels different. And that feels kinda awful, awful like seeing your best friend and feeling awkward in front of them. Which is good, since if I didn’t miss it I would question my salvation. Anyway, I’m just thinking of all the times he’s put things into perfect order amidst what looks to me like only chaos.


I’m thinking of how he came to earth to put our hearts and souls in perfect order in relation to him and how it looked, to the world, like it was amidst only chaos. How it must have felt to Mary and Joseph, who did not have nativity iconography to make everything seem quaint and like it would be okay. Who, in reality, were present for and ushering in the birth of the Son of God, and the best they could find was a barn.

I’m thinking of how, like my friend said, “When you go to war, you send a battleship. God sent a baby.”

And how he sends the most upside-down things to accomplish his goals.


I’m thinking of how I’m glad Christmas is only once a year because it’s hard to handle feeling this much. It’s at times overwhelming to dwell on his magnificence and how the chaos doesn’t mean anything because of his still, small voice.


And I’m thinking I cannot wait to worship with the choir tomorrow, to get wrecklessly, hopelessly engrossed in Him in that special way.


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