I got up this morning, made a pot of coffee, like usual, and then opened our sliding glass door to check the weather. Had it been April, it would have been the perfect day. But it's not. It's December. It's Florida. So, to no one's surprise, it felt like Spring more than Winter. That changed quickly.
By early afternoon, the clouds started to roll in, and by the two o'clock hour it looked like evening. There was lightning, thunder, and pouring rain. Miss G was terrified of the thunder ... to the point she got to take a nap in mommy and daddy's big bed.
With both of my girls sleeping, I listened to the peacefulness of the down pour. I sat in my make shift office, also known as the dining room table -- lap top open, brain swirling with ideas, and basking in the glow of the Christmas tree. I looked at the ornaments on my tree for inspiration on which Christmas song to write about today.
I spent twenty minutes or longer snapping pics of snowmen, santas, and glittery pretties hung on my tree. I had nothing. Looking out the front window, I saw the candles in the window sill. So peaceful. So silent. So pretty. Such a beautiful display of light and hope against the backdrop of the rain falling from the gloomy, December sky. My mind instantly went to that first Christmas night - when the Light of the World was born in a manger. A silent night. A holy night. Perfect.
As cliche as it may sound, Christmas really is all about family. At least in my household it is. Growing up, holidays were always a big deal for us. Christmas, Thanksgiving, 4th of July, Easter, Mothers' & Fathers' Day ... even birthdays were big celebrations. Since my siblings and I have been adults, and they have both moved to other parts of the country, holidays just aren't the same. If my brother makes it home, my sister can't, and vice versa. As disappointing as it is, it's just life. Thankfully, we've never missed a Christmas together in all the years that we've been a family of five.
A couple of years ago, my brother wasn't going to make it home for Christmas. The job he was working at the time sucked, and he was scheduled to work December 23 and December 26. Driving 15 hours round trip just didn't seem worth it only to be home for a few hours more than that. Not to mention, his little Honda Civic probably wouldn't have made the drive. My sister had flown in a few days before Christmas. We picked her up at the Jacksonville airport and she stayed with us until Christmas Eve, when we all piled into our little car and drove out to my parents' house.
We got there early afternoon, unpacked and got busy helping Mom put the final touches on Christmas. Then Miles, their little puggle dog, started barking. And he barked some more. And he barked some more. My mom said, "I think somebody's here." I went to the front door and saw my sister's car. It took me a minute to process, but there he was ... my little brother, all packed up in my sister's Yaris, standing in mom and dad's front yard. I remember becoming completely overwhelmed with emotion when I saw him. Throwing my arms around his neck, I choked back the tears. And in good little brother fashion, he made fun of me. Boys ... they never grow up.
As a kid, I'll Be Home for Christmas was just another song. It didn't have much meaning to me ... nothing more than a pretty tune. As an adult, it's become very personal. This year we will all be together, as we've always been. There's nothing more special then waking up Christmas morning to a house full of people, lights twinkling on the tree, and the smell of turkey cooking in the oven. I can't wait.
My little brother is a drummer. Every time I hear today's song of the season, I think about him. When I hear this song, I imagine him with a snare and two sticks in his hands. I don't picture the almost 25 year old man he has grown into with gauged ears and tattooed skin. I picture him as the little boy that I grew up with ... curly blonde hair and as bashful as they come. Quiet. Polite. Humble. He's still all those things.
The Little Drummer Boy isn't a traditional Christmas hymn, but it's a classic. I love the child like depiction it paints of that first Christmas night. What an honor it would be to play music for the King of all kings. Or to have the baby Jesus smile at you with a big, toothless, newborn grin. Precious. I hope that as you listen, you will envision that holy scene through the eyes of a child.
If I'm being honest, O Little Town of Bethlehem has never been one of my favorites. A classic? Yes. One we sing every year at Christmas Eve service? Yes. But it's never been a Christmas carol to really excite me. Until this year.
This picture you see, is an ornament on my mom and dad's tree. When I look at it, I see peace, rest, tranquility, stillness. When I think of the town of Bethlehem the night that Christ was born, the same adjectives come to mind - peace, rest, tranquility, stillness. While child birth is anything but those things, I can only imagine that on that very first Christmas night, there was a hush over that humble little town. A hush that can still be heard in the glow of a lit up tree. Or in the peacefulness of a new blanket of snow.
This time of year is chaotic for most of us with shopping, family, church functions, Christmas parades, baking, etc. all begging for our attention. I hope that as you fulfill all the obligations that are demanded of you over the next three weeks, that you will take time to listen for that hush.
You may remember my series from last year - Songs of the Season. Well, it's December and that means it's back!
Yes, I realize I'm a couple of days behind, but life happened. I spent the weekend at my parents' house helping them paint and organize. After inhaling fumes, climbing up and down a ladder, and entertaining a two year old in between rolling and brushing, by the time Saturday night rolled around I was completely exhausted and blogging was not happening. Kicking off December 1 with this year's Songs of the Season series was the plan. But as anyone in the blog world will tell you, plans are made to be canceled.
I did a Songs of the Season series last year. It was straight forward -- a blurp, a picture, a song all on a daily basis. This year will be a tad different. Not only will I post a different song every day -- hopefully -- but I will use a picture of an ornament from my tree (or my parents' tree) that represents each Christmasy tune. I hope you will join me every day from here until the end of the year for a musical slice of seasonal cheer. And yes, I do realize how cheesy that last sentence was.
Away In A Manger is a classic. Growing up, I sang in the choir at church. Every year, alongside two of my good friends, I would join in singing a trio of this Christmas hymn. We normally sang all three verses in unison, except for that one year. That year, we decided to each take a verse of our own. In theory, it sounded like a fabulous idea. In reality ... not so much. I froze. I was in the front of the church, robed in proper choir attire, mic in front of my face, and the words would just not come out. Silence. I vowed, at that moment, to never volunteer my vocal abilities (or lack thereof) for a solo again. All that being said, thank God there are people on the planet who can sing Away In A Manger by themselves ... people like Anne Murray. And in my book, her rendition is one of the best.
