I can still remember the feeling. The anticipation...the excitement bubbling up from within. It was Christmas Eve day. It was by far the most exciting day at the Taylor house growing up.
It was the anticipation of something known and yet unpredictable...unknown, endless possibilities but all positive outcomes.
In those first 7 years I knew how this day would play out. We would decorate for Christmas...a live tree (each of those early years...and later they would be planted in our yard). My older brother would be called on to help my Dad put up lights along the top of the house. My Mom would have us sewing strings of red and green glitter colored popcorn. Sometimes it would be me making a chain of interlocking paper loop chains out of green construction paper to hang in the room near the tree or in my bedroom. There was cookie baking going on with Russian Tea Cakes, Toll house Chocolate Chips, Chocolate Walnut Cookies and many more...
My Dad would be off from work or coming home early this day. We would be going to my Grandmom & Grandpop's home in Philadelphia. I listened to the radio with my cousins--as the announcer tracked Santa around the globe...live access to tell us his current position. There were lots of gifts big and small and it was the suspense of what might be coming for each of us. The wonderful butterflies inside waiting and taking it all in from the windows of the eyes.
Christmas morning there was a stocking jingling with wrapped treats on my bed...and a tree with gifts under it---something to ooh and ahhh over.
Mom would section a half orange for each of us--fancy...and cook bacon and pancakes or waffles. We ate together those early Christmas mornings.
Soon there were too many children in our family and we began to have an open house on Christmas Eve at our own house. We would all go to church together and come back and feed everyone with all kinds of great food, meatballs or roast beef sandwiches, baked goods, assorted cookies...and a happy birthday Jesus bakery cake.
As I grew I lost the wonder of Christmas. I still remember when the neighborhood kids told me my parents were Santa. My older brother Carl was very helpful putting the gifts together with and for my Dad during these years. I remember getting that yellow Hugger Big Wheels type vehicle made out of metal...simply the greatest gift I had ever received...even greater that I hadn't asked for it. My brother Mark and I rode those everywhere for hour after hour across yards, down stairs--we beat those things--and it was great!
Fast forward a few years and my Mom wasn't getting out of bed...she was sick. My brother Carl was married and I was the oldest at home. I went with my Dad to visit Bethana children's home. My Dad made a donation, in fact I came to realize he had faithfully given to this mission every year on Christmas Eve. My Dad was so faithful in that example of giving despite the fact that we were never rich, and usually lower middle class from what I could tell. He was happy giving too.
We started using an artificial tree that year as my older sister Linda came home and helped me decorate that tree and we ordered pizza and picked it up and had a quiet Christmas Eve. No longer as magical to me in nature but I wanted it to still be magical to my younger siblings.
Mark and I would watch the North-South game on TV as my parents would go back to bed. Christmas day itself was not the main focus. There was nothing magical in those days--the wonder had left.
When I got married to Michelle, holidays were so important to her--in fact any opportunity to celebrate was always at the forefront of her mind. Family and holidays were always where she would focus her time and energy. At first I found this to be a very annoying trait...but I have come to love this about her...she has taught me how to celebrate others-- demonstrated giving as a central theme, and laid the groundwork for future lessons on Christmas. Tradition was important again...
When my children Grant, Haileigh and Kelly Hope came along we had so many Christmas's in Churchville, Newtown and Dublin...cutting down our tree and a wagon ride back, decorating together, making cookies...and of course--the debate each year for colored or white lights on the tree. The look of wonder on the kids faces was something I could live vicariously and appreciate...
Back four years ago I discovered something wonderful in the midst of the most difficult year of my life.
I believed that Christmas was not coming that year to our home...in fact I wasn't sure we would have a home by Christmas day. A funny thing happened on the way to Christmas Day...I began a job at Costco in November and wonderful people stepped forward and became the hands and feet of Jesus in our lives in tangible ways.
On December 23rd I received a turkey from another worker...let's face it...if you don't have food in the cupboards...not much else matters...it was a gift from the heart.
A neighbor put our name in for a Christmas pantry food basket and so we were given food that went straight into our pantry and suddenly everyone was a little brighter--even me...eyes of wonder had returned...wonder at people's giving and grace, stepping up and giving to provide for us.
Some of my son Grant's friends--parents purchased some gas cards and grocery cards for us...wow I thought--God really cares about us and is using all kinds of actions and different people to give his message. I could feel my heart in my chest growing in size and appreciation as I needed others...I could no longer pick and choose if I needed others--I just did. Brokenness will get your heart in the right place every time faster than any sermon.
I was so grateful in my heart for these gifts...as I struggled back out the door for my work shift on Christmas Eve day--my PB & J sandwich tasted like steak to me. I had food, my family had food and we would be ok. I no longer felt like the grinch had stolen our Christmas...when we woke up Christmas morning, the tall and the small might even join hands and sing, or in the very least be merry in our hearts for the warmth and caring shown to us.
About 2PM Michelle called me--she was loud and talking fast... "a gift card tree came for us...a neighbor brought it over", but I've always suspected that one of my Costco coworkers was the inspiration and catalyst who orchestrated this tremendous gift that provided the greatest Taylor Christmas ever. I was stopped in my tracks that Christmas Eve, and I cried the largest tears I had cried in many years...those were tears of wonder and excitement...tears of joy.
That is the day the wonder of Christmas returned to me...It is a gift I'll never give up.
It was a hopeful night that evening as Michelle and I prayed out loud and gave thanks at the wonder of everything that had happened in the span of 48 hours. Not a Christmas can pass since without giving thanks and recalling the events of that year. It is always out of the burden of brokenness that we receive gifts of gold in our lives.
Our Christmas's since are much smaller than they once were..but our time together is what holds more meaning..it is far more intentional.
When I think about God's plan to save the world...sending his one and only Son to us as a baby..."God with us"--simply amazing...He is always with us--through those lonely dark valleys of despair...I realized that the wonder of Christmas was all about the giving spirit of Hope. The baby coming to earth two thousand years ago was our only Hope just as the gifts we were given in 2010 that sustained us and blessed us were our only Hope. We did nothing to deserve either gift--but without them where would I be today?
Thank you one and all...thank you Jesus.
The Wonder of it all. The Wonder of Christmas....
