On the First Day of Christmas....

... On Christmas Day, I didn't write a blessed thing.

Well, that's not exactly true.  I got up very early to amend my Christmas Day sermon, to delete a story, and to insert a new story that I had read in the local paper a couple of days ago.  I wondered about the wisdom of making this last-minute change, since I had been up rather late Christmas eve watching a DVD with the stepsons (who really wanted us to experience "Family Guy Star Wars.")  But during the sermon, I saw a few nods of recognition from people who had read the story, about reconciliation between enemies.  (the link is here.)

It was a small attendance for Christmas Day (it always has been so), but big voices, and the handbells played "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming", which was wonderful.   And since Christmas Day was Saturday, we shared the building with a large group of Hispanic 7th Day Adventists, who were also celebrating Christmas on their regular holy day.   Right before I went into worship, I saw a large group of small children, dressed up like angels.

I hurried home, and discovered my husband and his two boys had been doing some incredible jamming while I was gone.  I got in on just a little of the music before we went over to my mom and dad's house for dinner, presents and a mean game of Scrabble.  We all got CD's of Christmas music from my nephew, a talented musician, and it was great to spend some quality time with his girlfriend, too.

I got two (count 'em) two gift certificates to my favorite yarn store, Linden Hills yarn.  So, Now I'm thinking:  do I spring for the yarn and really attempt a sweater?  Or....

On the first day of Christmas I thought back to Christmas Eve a little bit, how it looks to gaze over the congregation, sitting in the dark with candles glowing.  It's an incredible view.  And I thought about what it was like to light the candles on the aisles while everyone began singing Silent Night.  I heard one man singing it in German -- all three verses.   On the first day of Christmas I thought about all the glimpses we get of the light shining the darkness.

They are glimpses, and sometimes they don't seem to be enough, but then again, they are.  Just hearing Silent Night in German, or seeing the small sharp points of light, just hearing the carols or singing them with shaking voices,  just that small piece of bread in our hands, somehow, it's enough.

And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us.....