Merry Christmas

Not political, and you might not care but I write this stuff because if I don't I explode

Every year (except last year) I read The Best Christmas Pageant Ever to my children. This year only the 11 year old listened to the entire thing.

If you are not familiar with the story, the Herdman children, six of them, get involved with the Christmas pageant. These children light things on fire, beat others up, smoke cigars, and are generally feral. They hear the Christmas story for the first time when they become part of the Christmas Pageant at the Presbyterian Church. They only show up because they were told there would be snacks. Throughout the book, we see the Christmas story through the eyes of those who have never heard it before. I cry every year that I read it. My kids think that the story is for them. We have 7, one more than the Herdmans, and my oldest 4 boys were rowdy and “active” as little guys. I’m not sure they ever burned anything down, but I’m pretty sure they might have roughed up a couple of people.

The truth is, the story is for me. I didn’t grow up in a home with a mom and a dad that took me to church every Sunday. My grandmother was an amazing Catholic who made sure we went to church when we were at her house. However, I grew up pretty feral, “raised” by a boomer that was more concerned about herself than her children, it’s pretty amazing I am who I am. (although I’m still pretty feral. I prefer feral housewife to domestic housewife, but I will claim the title domestic extremist too) I can attribute that to a couple of things. The four years of high school I spent with my dad, my husband, and a God that is bigger than my mistakes.

The book shows how the Christmas story is able to touch even those who seem the most lost. My story is the same. The person I was is not who I am. I am lucky I am alive. There were times in my life that my life should have ended. Whether by someone else or myself. I was pretty self destructive. In junior high, in high school, in college, and even in the beginning of our marriage. I was not worthy of love. God, if there was one, had given up on me.

My husband was always the good one. He saw something in me I didn’t. The moment he met me he knew our paths were destined. (at that point he wasn’t sure if it was for good or for evil) I tried to ruin what we had more than once. It didn’t work. 26+ years and 7 children later we are still here. God had me the entire time and I didn’t know it. Until I was pregnant with number 6, I still questioned His existence. There is no question about it now.

Why am I pouring out my soul this Christmas? Excellent question. Probably one too many peppermint white Russians. The real reason is my Marine. He’s the wild one. That poor kid got his mamma’s genes and James Dean’s sense of adventure. He’s been that way since he could walk. There are people who only see his mistakes. They only see who he was. They can’t see who he is becoming or how God sees him. I ache for him. I get it. I understand that some people take the easy road to God and some of us need the 2x4 upside the head in order for God to get our attention. He and I are the 2x4 kind of people.

I am thankful that God sees me with His eyes. I am thankful that my husband sees who I am not who I was. I am thankful for redemption and forgiveness. I am thankful for the God that became flesh so that even I would be invited to accept the gift that he gave in the manger and on the cross. I am thankful that I was able to move past who I was and become a mother to 7 amazing people.

Yes, when you have 7 children and a dog and they are all home, the stockings go on the table.

While we have enjoyed stockings and rolls and ham, the true gift this year is the gift of Jesus. May you find Him and His peace.

Merry Christmas.

John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

(for those that need the shortest verse in the Bible- John 11:35 Jesus wept)

(My husband’s favorite- Proverbs 21:9 Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife.)