My Christmas Tale

This is a tale of a woman who loves Christmas.  This is my tale.  It's not a tall tale, but a heartfelt tale.  And it's a tale that's meant to be lived 365 (or 366!) days a year.  And yet, it's a tale that holds the possibility of alienating me from you.  Oh, but will you dare to catch a glimpse of my heart?  Will you stick with me to the final paragraph, dear friend?  I pray so.

And so it begins...Come late November, should you gaze into the long, rectangular windows that are on either side of my burgundy-colored front door you will find me.  You can't see me?  Well, I am standing on my oak stairway.  I'm elevated for no other reason than it is the only place I can reach the tallest branches of my slim twelve-foot CHRISTmas tree--a tree that ideally fits into small places with high ceilings.  Now, my friend, please don't throw tinsel at me if you have an elf-on-the-shelf or if Santa brings your children and/or grandchildren presents.  You won't find me piously protesting those things, but here's the deal, dear one.  I guard CHRISTmas tenaciously.  I love its meaning...It and Easter are pivotal to my faith.  And so, with classic CHRISTmas carols and new songs about my Savior blasting through my townhouse, each limb of my tree is decorated with a symbol of my faith...

With ornaments of glittering golds in various shapes and sizes, I reflect on the splendor and majesty of heaven that He so freely left to come into the humblest of circumstances.  In that original "KING-sized bed"--a common feeding trough--HE came to identify with me in every way possible.  And with decorations of crimson reds, tears often spill down my cheeks, as I ponder anew the purpose with which He came...Yes, with each drop of blood He gave on that cruel cross, He came to be the perfect sacrifice for my sins.  And with the straw that surely cushioned His make-shift bed and that perhaps poked through the cloths that swaddled His tiny body, I see a foreshadowing of thorns digging into His brow and a sword piercing His side.  Oh, yes, it was indeed a sacrifice for sins I could never, ever cover with even the best designer fig leaves...

And so, my grandchildren ooh and aah over the twinkling lights and decorations.  I love to explain the crosses in different shapes that point to the sacrifice of Christ and the golden crowns that are fit for the KING.  They love to hear how the butterflies that clip onto my branches symbolize new beginnings and new birth.  And yes, they pick out the words that hang in glittering letters--FAITH, HOPE, JOY, and PEACE.  And since they often help feed birds at Gi-Gi's house, they love hearing again and again that doves point us to His peace and that our Lord cares for every bird of the air.  As I point out the numerous glittered churches hanging from the tree, we recite the age-old ditty..."Here is the church and here is the steeple.  Open the doors and see all the people."  And with their wide-eyed wonder, they listen as I joyously exclaim the importance of meeting together with others who love Jesus.  But then there are numerous ornate mirrors hanging from the limbs.  Theystump my dear ones.  My ever curious grandson, Karson, gazes at his reflection in the mirror he can most easily reach,  and I ask him, "Karson, what does God want for Christmas?"  With a puzzled expression and a questioning response he utters, "A mirror?"  I point him back to his adorable reflection in that small mirror and ask him what he sees.  "I see me, Gi~Gi...I see Karson!"  I tenderly cup his little face in my hands.  "And Karson, that's what God wants for Christmas!"  Ohhhhh, yes, long after the decorations are packed away, the message remains, because it is a message for every day of the year...

My dear, dear soul, you may find yourself standing in front of a mirror today.  There may be blemishes or scars or even a few wrinkles in that reflection.  There may be tears or eyes swollen from sorrow and sleep-deprived nights.  But God wants you--all of you!  Let HIM paint your face with His reflection--His blessed life.  So, should your Christmas bring an elf-on-your-shelf and gifts from Santa to your dear ones, don't let them overshadow Jesus...Don't let them even come close!  The truth is whatever you prize, you will end up praising 365 days a year.  Yes, dear one, there is a Savior.  There is a Shepherd of your soul.  And He wants you.  In exchange, you will receive all of HIM and the blessings of HIS life.  You will indeed find A PRESENT PEACE that nothing else can match...And that is the tale of a woman who loves Christmas.  It's my tale, and I'm sticking with it...

Tell Me the Story...

 "Tell me the story one more time, Gi-Gi, " Lucy pleads.  And so I do...

It was a chilly October evening when I arrived in the small town of Virden, Illinois.  Yes, so small it boasted no Walmart Supercenter or familiar grocery store chain.  Corn and soybean fields aplenty were on full display and lined every roadway inside and outside the city limits.  Yes, set against a backdrop of rich farming soil and big barns and silos--handed down from past generations--was the thriving brick church where your daddy served as both the worship pastor and the youth pastor.  Your momma, great with child, (yes, that was you, Lucy) continued to toot her flute, sing, and/or tickle the ivories of the baby grand piano weekly.

Your Gi-Gi arrived a couple of days before you made your grand entrance, so that I could get the charming little house you would soon occupy--with its usual Midwestern basement--spit and polished. (No, Lucy, I didn't actually spit on your furniture...It's just an expression!) And when all the cleaning had been completed, it was Halloween.  As your mom and dad relaxed, I greeted costumed children from near and far with handfuls of candy and a smile. And while your Gi-Gi was not dressed in a costume, my short and spiked  hairdo entertained more than a few trick or treaters on that October evening!  Yep, Lucy, many thought your Gi-Gi was a rock star!!  (Go ahead and laugh, Lucy...You always do!) Awww, but finally the porch light was turned off and between nervousness and exhaustion, a silent hush fell over that little cottage.

Bright and early the next morning, we braved the frosty fall air to make the hour long trek to Springfield for your mom's scheduled c-section.  We were anxious to meet the darling little girl who had situated herself in a nice comfy position with her head upward--so that her ears would be ever close to the beat of her mommy's heart (yes, dear Lucy, that was you). I paced the waiting room and repeatedly checked my phone for texts of promised pictures from your daddy.  And then, at 11:55am on November 1, 2007, I heard the familiar strains of BRAHM'S LULLABY waft through the hospital intercom!  You had arrived weighing just over eight pounds!  I rejoiced as those promised pictures indeed flooded my phone from your precious daddy!!  A few hours later, when you were settled with your mom and dad in your hospital room, I walked in and heard you crying.  I like to believe that you were telling your mom and dad--in no uncertain terms--that it was time to meet your Gi-Gi!  And so, I scooped you up and sang to you our little song--my version of a song my dear pastor's wife has sung to her babies..."I like your eyes...I like your ears...I like your nose--your hands, your feet, your toes.  I like your smile...I really do.  There's no one else exactly like you.  You could search the whole world and never find...Cause there's no one else...There's no one else exactly like you!" And yes, Lucy, you looked up at me and a sacred and beautiful hush fell across your face.  And that was the day that Lucy Shea Toller came to live with a mommy and daddy who had prayed over and over and over for a baby of their own.  And that was the day that Paula Rutherford first became a Gi-Gi...And nothing has ever been the same!

Dear friends, why does Lucy never tire of hearing that story?  It's because she loves hearing how she fits into her family.  She loves hearing how she was the longing realized by her mommy and daddy.  She loves hearing that she was wanted--that she was, and is, a big deal to us!  Yes, the same is true for each of us.  We want to know how we fit into God's family.  We need desperately to understand how He longs for joyous fellowship with us and that we were HIS big idea!  Oh, but we will never fully know that truth until we take God at His Word--until we take to heart the words of His His love letter to each of us.  Yes, He has told us His story...It's a story that includes you and me!  Just as I have sung that same song to Lucy, and each of my grandchildren after her, more times than I can count--God is singing His song to you and to me.  My friend, I invite you to hear it anew right now---"The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save, He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing."  Now that's a story worth telling again and again!