It happens for us every Christmas Eve. It has been more regular than the traditions of a tree or gifts or with whom we spend Christmas Day. Our tradition involves First United Methodist Church of Stillwater, OK and my grandmother. Since I have been out on my own, it has been an annual tradition with my grandmother and me to attend a Christmas Eve service at her church. There have been few exceptions to our tradition.
Last year was one of those exceptions. Handsome and I travelled to Stillwater to meet with my grandmother but grandmother had forgotten what day it was. She had been fighting these difficulties for some time and her serious forgetfulness was out of control that day. We arrived and she was genuinely surprised and glad to see us. She couldn't, however, understand that we were there to go to services with her. We opted, instead, to go to Perkins Family Restaurant and have a meal together. We had a nice time visiting but Handsome and I really felt the loss of both the worship and the tradition.
This year's trip to grandmother's house was MUCH better. She was ready, clear-headed and excited.
We enjoyed the service so much. The church is beautiful and old. It is so pretty in its Christmas adornment. We had a devotional for the last candle of the Advent wreath. We meditatated on God coming in a fragile little package–an infant.
Guys, I love to play more than anything but I have to tell you that this evening, this holiday, this season remains the most meaningful to my Christian walk. I suppose I should love Easter more but I don't. (I love Easter but not more than Christmas.) There is something that beckons me from Christmas. Come near and be still. Come near and be gentle. Come near and be tender. Come near and be nurtured. Come near. Emmanuel. God with us. He came near and then invites us to draw near.
Merry Christmas to you. I'll see you on the other side of the day.