I walked across the
desert back to the room. It is snowing. Not hard. But enough flakes are coming
out of the sky to change the feel and mood of my walk. It feels Christmasy.
This year I will spend Christmas in Kazakhstan away from family. There are people here - co-workers - that I will share a Christmas dinner with. Even with that being the case, I will be alone. Alone has been my theme for this year.
Growing up Christmas was for me, like most kids, a big deal. I looked forward to the holiday with a sense of wonder. Mom and dad made it that way for us. Dad would quote Scrooge often saying “bah humbug”, but when it came to it he loved Christmas too.
One year we got home from a hour long drive from our grandparents house on Christmas Eve. It was dark and cold and my brother and I were excited about this being the night that Santa would come. There was a knock at the door. Dad went away and was gone for a bit. He closed the door and he and mom came into our room and said “That was Santa. He can’t bring in your presents until you are asleep. He is going to the neighbor’s house and will swing back by. If you aren’t asleep he will have to move on.” We didn’t have a fireplace or a chimney for Santa to descend so it made perfect sense to us that he would knock on the door. We jumped into our PJs and turned off the light and tried our hardest to fall asleep. I realize now this was a sneaky way for mom and dad to get time alone on Christmas Eve but for us it added to the wonder of Christmas.
I remember mom getting together with my aunts and them making Christmas treats. One aunt made this hard red transparent candy that was cinnamon flavored and burned your tongue. There were cookies, cakes, chocolate and pecan sandies. Mom made peanut butter bon bons and turtles. Those two desserts mean Christmas to me. And they add to the wonder.
Most years we would dig through the TV guide to figure out when the movie ‘A Christmas Carol’ would come on. We loved the combination of a Christmas story mixed with a ghost story. It scared me and inspired me all at the same time. When our kids got to junior high their school would take them on a field trip around Christmas to the Alley Theater in Houston to see their on-stage version of A Christmas Carol. I would volunteer as a chaperone every year I could because I love the story so much. In recent years we have seen the play a couple of times in London. One version was an over the top glitzy version and another was a sparse stage. The later was much better. But every time I have seen A Christmas Carol performed in whatever format, it has caused in me a sense of wonder.
A while back Andrew Peterson wrote and recorded a Christmas album called ‘Behold the Lamb of God’. It is well written and tells the Christmas story in an original way with the appropriate brevity. The music sets the proper tone for every movement of the story. It is good to listen to the recorded version but what is even better is to see it performed live. Many of the past Christmases since it was released we have gone to see Andrew Peterson and his band of merry musicians perform ‘Behold the Lamb of God’ live. It is the story that matters most at Christmas and adds to the wonder.
This year while I am alone in Kazakhstan I want to, even long to, find Christmas wherever I can. I see it and feel it in the light snow as I walk. I downloaded ‘A Christmas Carol’ to read. Even though I have seen it performed I have never read Dickens’ words. I have just finished reading about the ghost of Christmas past and the story is even richer to me now as it goes from the page into my head. I walked to work this morning and listened to the live version of ‘Behold the Lamb of God’. I cried in a couple of places. It moved me to be grateful that God became a man for the benefit of all of humanity. When I get home after Christmas we will celebrate late with our kids on New Year’s. We are calling it New Christmas. I will make peanut butter bon bons and turtles. And I will feel the wonder and find Christmas wherever I can. Maybe Santa will even knock on the door.
Gather 'round ye children, come
Listen to the ol. old story
Of the pow'r of Death undone
By an infant born of glory
Andrew Peterson 'Gather Round ye Children Come'
This year I will spend Christmas in Kazakhstan away from family. There are people here - co-workers - that I will share a Christmas dinner with. Even with that being the case, I will be alone. Alone has been my theme for this year.
Growing up Christmas was for me, like most kids, a big deal. I looked forward to the holiday with a sense of wonder. Mom and dad made it that way for us. Dad would quote Scrooge often saying “bah humbug”, but when it came to it he loved Christmas too.
One year we got home from a hour long drive from our grandparents house on Christmas Eve. It was dark and cold and my brother and I were excited about this being the night that Santa would come. There was a knock at the door. Dad went away and was gone for a bit. He closed the door and he and mom came into our room and said “That was Santa. He can’t bring in your presents until you are asleep. He is going to the neighbor’s house and will swing back by. If you aren’t asleep he will have to move on.” We didn’t have a fireplace or a chimney for Santa to descend so it made perfect sense to us that he would knock on the door. We jumped into our PJs and turned off the light and tried our hardest to fall asleep. I realize now this was a sneaky way for mom and dad to get time alone on Christmas Eve but for us it added to the wonder of Christmas.
I remember mom getting together with my aunts and them making Christmas treats. One aunt made this hard red transparent candy that was cinnamon flavored and burned your tongue. There were cookies, cakes, chocolate and pecan sandies. Mom made peanut butter bon bons and turtles. Those two desserts mean Christmas to me. And they add to the wonder.
Most years we would dig through the TV guide to figure out when the movie ‘A Christmas Carol’ would come on. We loved the combination of a Christmas story mixed with a ghost story. It scared me and inspired me all at the same time. When our kids got to junior high their school would take them on a field trip around Christmas to the Alley Theater in Houston to see their on-stage version of A Christmas Carol. I would volunteer as a chaperone every year I could because I love the story so much. In recent years we have seen the play a couple of times in London. One version was an over the top glitzy version and another was a sparse stage. The later was much better. But every time I have seen A Christmas Carol performed in whatever format, it has caused in me a sense of wonder.
A while back Andrew Peterson wrote and recorded a Christmas album called ‘Behold the Lamb of God’. It is well written and tells the Christmas story in an original way with the appropriate brevity. The music sets the proper tone for every movement of the story. It is good to listen to the recorded version but what is even better is to see it performed live. Many of the past Christmases since it was released we have gone to see Andrew Peterson and his band of merry musicians perform ‘Behold the Lamb of God’ live. It is the story that matters most at Christmas and adds to the wonder.
This year while I am alone in Kazakhstan I want to, even long to, find Christmas wherever I can. I see it and feel it in the light snow as I walk. I downloaded ‘A Christmas Carol’ to read. Even though I have seen it performed I have never read Dickens’ words. I have just finished reading about the ghost of Christmas past and the story is even richer to me now as it goes from the page into my head. I walked to work this morning and listened to the live version of ‘Behold the Lamb of God’. I cried in a couple of places. It moved me to be grateful that God became a man for the benefit of all of humanity. When I get home after Christmas we will celebrate late with our kids on New Year’s. We are calling it New Christmas. I will make peanut butter bon bons and turtles. And I will feel the wonder and find Christmas wherever I can. Maybe Santa will even knock on the door.
Gather 'round ye children, come
Listen to the ol. old story
Of the pow'r of Death undone
By an infant born of glory
Andrew Peterson 'Gather Round ye Children Come'
