There was a lot of imperfect going on at the Blue Cotton House for Christmas.
I don’t think the perfect gift was in anyone’s stocking – or wrapped in paper. The house kept falling into disorder. We didn’t read The Night Before Christmas – but from Sunday through Wednesday – there were smiles and laughter, hugs hello and good-bye.
The truffles didn’t get rolled and sprinkled until yesterday (3 days after Christmas). Some still need to be dipped in chocolate – and the majeskas? Well, they just didn’t get made.
It was a patchwork Christmas – one son leaving for California with the sunrise Christmas Eve. The oldest making it for Muffaletta Christmas Eve, parting ways for Christmas Eve service – and then there were 3. No mad-cap gift prep because the youngest is 13.
I’m graceless at new things – like 3 home on Christmas Day and no little ones, this moving out of raising boys-to-men to the mom’s role in the life of little-men-to-growing men. The Christmas Tree and table decorations, and traditions like turkey on Christmas Night and muffalettas on Christmas Eve, the music, the movies, the hanging of the “First Christmas” with my husband on the tree – it anchors me in the ever-changing dynamic of celebrating life with 5 sons growing.
Andrea Bocelli’s “Angels We Have Heard on High” and “Adeste Fidelis” allowed me to feel what the shepherds must have felt when the angels appeared to them that night long ago.
Our church read the Christmas story – and gave some background information. Did you realize that Elizabeth’s husband Zechariah as high priest was the only church leader who could have given the verdict for Mary to be stoned if Joseph so chose to go that path. Not a coincidence that Zechariah was struck mute, giving him time to understand what God wanted him to do.
My big little guy, all 13 years old, not believing in Santa but believing in our Savior, he wanted me to make my Christmas casserole of hard-boiled eggs, chips, bacon and my cheese sauce. “No onions, Mom,” he asked.
Santa didn’t get a letter from the boy’s this year. The boys have always done one, passing the writer role down from the oldest to, well, the 4th son wrote it last year and the 5th wouldn’t write one on principle.
“I don’t want anything,” the 15 year old said.
The 18 year old wanted clothes – not grunge-looking clothes but clothes that showed a maturing, to go with his short hair cut.
Christmas Morning woke to a quiet. No early risers discovering what Santa brought – just a 13 year old discovering mid-morning a stocking full of coal – because only believers get presents from Santa – non-believers get coal.
“It pays to be bad,” the 3rd said. “You can get a good price for coal.”
There were smiles, new pants that fit just right, and sweaters for swag. There was It’s a Wonderful Life, The Man who Came for Dinner, Christmas in Connecticut, A Christmas Carol, and Ben Hur
and harness bells on the door.
Remote controlled helipoters instead of nerf guns
Merry Christmas phone calls to loved ones far away
Letter B gift exchanges – which is why there is a BIG Darth Vader under the tree
and my grandfather’s ornaments, my grandmother’s Christmas balls and my mother’s wreath because I don’t just like things, I like the story behind them.
Turkey, oyster dressing, a friend’s squash and cranberry casserole, savory green beans, egg nog and unfinished truffle balls – shared with friends and 3 of 5 sons.
It was an imperfect Christmas made perfect through the birth of a savior over 2000 years ago
when angels sang to a bunch of shepherds, shepherds who were so low they weren’t even allowed to go into the temple once a year to present their perfect sacrifice to atone for their sins – so they could be brought into the inner circle of God’s family.
Yet, according to our Christmas Eve service, these shepherds the angels visited were the select shepherds who raised the lambs, raised them without blemish, without brokenness, watched over them so they would be the perfect sacrifice for the sins of God’s people.
The angels appeared first to the most lost – and dropped into their lap the most important news scoop since creation – Glad Tidings, an angelic message, the Inside Story of the greatest story Ever Told – through this baby in a manger, God and sinner reconciled.
How imperfectly awesome is that – Angels announcing to the lowest left-out of God’s children that a savior was born to save them, to wash their sins away that weren’t allowed to be washed away in the daily or yearly – because He would bring the temple to them, and there, in the fields, outcasts by their own, they would in a few years, have the opportunity to have God in them, Salvation in them – and they, too, would be washed white as snow because of the perfect sacrifice of a Savior, born in a manger.
Maybe that’s why I love the shepherd story the best, that the angels sing a message from God – and the shepherds carry it in their hearts to their community:
“Hail the heav’n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings
Ris’n with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing
Glory to the Newborn King”
and like the shepherds, I want to take the message to those that cross my path, even if it’s a path that takes me out of our way, even if is to people who think I am not worthy of the message, even if I’ve settled down to an evening under the stars, I want to rouse myself from my comfortable place to live the amazing joy of sharing something so awesome, just like the shepherds.
Between you and me? I want to not just do it, but feel the way those shepherds must have felt.
Christmas Day came for the outcasts, for the broken and the orphaned. Christmas Day came all for each imperfect me and you and everyone.
Wishing you an imperfectly beautiful Christmas Day every day this year!
How grateful I am to the Lord for putting His only Son in an imperfect cradle into this imperfect world. So glad He came to this imperfect home, my sick, sin-filled heart 🙂 Blessings to you for this marvelous reminder!
Things are different in our household, too. But thankfully, just like in yours, knowing that Christ is our Savior makes it a perfect Christmas!
Blessings, Joan
Oh girl. This is too awesome. I totally feel ya. Ours was an imperfectly perfect Christmas too! It was our baby’s first Christmas and the first time in our lives we weren’t able to make it home to either of our families… But it was so imperfectly precious.
Thanks for making my heart smile. (PS: I love the idea that “You can get a good price for coal. Also, your post made me hungry 😉 Blessings!
It sounds like a beautiful Christmas. I love that you have Muffalettas on Christmas eve! We have an annual N’awluns Christmas party with some dear friends and those sandwiches are always a hit. We had a quiet Christmas this year. It felt so lonely without Lucy Mae. But God is good and we are so blessed. Happy New Year to you, my friend. You are one of my treasured blessings.
Great sharing. I didn’t know that about Elizabeth and Zecharia and his ‘ability’ to declare a stoning. wow. silence is good.
thank you. for all the words you have shared and for the encouragement on my blog.
Wow… Excellent post. I didn’t know that about Zechariah, cool. Christmas and the truth of our Savior is for the broken and we’re all broken.
I’ve not shared this with anyone else and don’t do it now to let my left hand shout to my right, but it just worked out in the timing of things with our middle daughter getting in town and the oldest’s work schedule. Our family, including the youngest, 15, and the only one home like you, got the privilege to pass out a boat load of sleeping bags and socks on Christmas Day in the section of town that nobody showed up in that day…
Think we’ll make it a family tradition…
This was a wonderful post. I SO enjoyed it. That is the NEATEST thing about Zechariah being in that position. Wow. I have never heard that. I also loved what you brought out about the shepherds and how the angels brought the news to them first and how they weren’t even worthy to go into the temple. It made me think of myself and how very unworthy I am that Jesus would condescend so low and live and dwell within my heart. Praise His name! Wonderful, shout-provoking thoughts! I am so thankful you came by my blog and left such sweet encouragement behind. It meant so much to me and reminded me to stop and visit yours. So glad I did. I leave here edified and uplifted. Thank you, my dear, sweet friend.
What a beautiful post. I’m so glad you visited my blog so that I could come and read yours. An imperfect Christmas glorifying our majestic and Holy Savior. It sounds to me like you got it exactly right. Oh, and 5 sons … my admiration knows no bounds. What a tremendous blessing.
mmm … sometimes there’s priceless gifts amidst all the imperfect …
So pleased I kept this message in my inbox … maybe a little late reading in the world’s ‘Christmas’ eyes; but perfect timing in His. What a discovery to me to learn about Zechariah’s authority re Mary and about the shepherds and their relationship to the sacrifices … what a precious responsibility they had physically and spiritually.
Imperfectly awesome, indeed
(Those sandwiches look yummy….)