Christmas Presence

It was minus 2 degrees when we woke up this morning at 6:30. The air was the clean crisp stellar air of winter in the mountains. Far away stars seem closer somehow and the animal tracks in the snow hint at the night time mysteries we never see unfold. Walking down to the stable, the sun was bright and there was no wind. Distant mountains are clearly delineated in the overlapping folds of faint colors. Smudge, the black and white barn kitty, and Bud, the tabby old tom, walk up to meet me seemingly none the worse for the cold weather. Katy and Shirley, the donkeys, have left their stall and are standing in the sun, condensed breath icicles hanging from their noses. Dixie leaves the stall with a flourish, kicking her heels up and jumping sideways. Junie B trots to the hay and begins breakfast. All is well.
I stand on the hill up to the house and survey the world around me. It is white, cold and still. Beauty and winter gifts surround me. A wisp of smoke from Julie’s wood stove rises in the air. Snow diamonds blaze in the morning sun. The sight of Mama’s house reminds me how graced I am to have her so near and still present in my life. Old hornet’s nests blow in the tree tops, a reminder of summer long gone… a summer that will come again in good time.
It was a wonderfully wild and wacky Christmas. Children and grandchildren came and went. Some stayed longer than others but all were gathered around the table Christmas Day… seventeen of us, a children’s table for the first time, turkey and ham (for Adam who does not like turkey), laughter, naps, picture taking on the front porch re-creating the poses of years past with our two latest additions, blessed commotion.
My best presents did not come in boxes. They came in people. Grandchildren playing (and fussing), riding the Daddy O to feed cows and taking baths in the whirlpool tub, Maddie in her new silver boots, Clancy’s smile, Matthew standing tall, Mason in Pop’s big yellow headphones, Mead vacuuming, Rowan snuggled up to me as I read a book to him, Aidan sharing Minecraft with me, Colby striding out in his farm boots that reach up to his knees. I watch their parents and remember long ago and far away when it was me being responsible for their baths and behavior. Christmas present and past overlap and I see the present through eyes blurred by tears and a heart full of thanksgiving.
This year I will practice living with the Christmas presence in my daily life. The hope, joy, anticipation and love so clearly evident on Christmas Day will not leave me if I pay attention. Howard Thurman wrote a poem read by my Pastor Pat Sunday in worship. It is named “The Work of Christmas”.

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,

To bring peace among brothers,
To make music in the heart.
Let me not forget the holy joy and the thanksgiving I feel in your Christmas Presence. Help me remember to do the work of Christmas in this new year so I may remain tucked under your wing with a heart full of music. Amen.