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Pastor Don's Journal
12-11-18
Home for Christmas
If all I knew about Christmas was what I had seen in Hallmark movies (and Audrey and I have seen them all) I would think that it is only about finding romantic love over hot chocolate and gingerbread. Big city stress conquered by small town caroling and cozy fires. The story of Jesus is there, of course, but almost tangentially. There is a lot in those films about home. Going home. Finding home. Remembering and reliving the traditions of the past that were a part of every Christmas growing up. And, in rediscovering them, true happiness comes in the last three minutes. Every film ends with snow falling...and a kiss.
And there is something to that. We all have our deeply rooted ways to celebrate the season, and most of them revolve around family.
In the first years of our marriage, we had both our families alive and well. Christmas Day was busy, spent mostly on the road, traveling from wherever we lived at the time to Keysville, Virginia, and then on to Suffolk. We didn't have Christmas Eve services in my churches back in those days, so we sometimes got to the Baker's a day or two early. We would come in from Orlando and take the opportunity to visit friends in Farmville and Henderson, NC. We would go to the candlelight service in the little Methodist church in Keysville. Then, on Christmas morning, breakfast with Audrey's mom and dad; brother Steve and his wife, Carolyn; and eventually their sons and our John Mark crowding the table. Egg and sausage soufflé, ham, fried oysters, biscuits, coffee and eggnog. It is still the same. Presents are then opened and the stockings that were hung by the chimney with care are dumped out. Steve, with his video camera, chronicling it all for all these years.
By noon we are through and packing up. Everybody has somewhere else to be later in the day, another round of celebrating.
When John Mark was just a baby we began our tradition of visiting Lottie Moon's grave in Crewe, Virginia. When my mother was still alive and we would drive to Suffolk, our journey took us right by the cemetery. Later, it was out of our way to go there -- we had to be intentional about it -- but we haven't missed a Christmas yet. Rain, sleet, sunshine or snow -- it doesn't matter. Every December 25 we huddle there and read her tombstone -- "For forty years a missionary to China. Faithful unto death". We recount again the story of her death on Christmas Eve, 1912. We proudly tell her what our church has given for missions that year, and the offering named in her memory. We pray a prayer of recommitment to our own call, then take a picture or two, load up the car again and go. Fifteen minutes is all.
Daniela joins us now. We are usually in two cars. She and John Mark may then drive to Danville, to see his childhood friends (a tradition of his own). Audrey and I either point our car northward to Alexandria or southward to Florida. We spend our hours in the car calling colleagues and friends around the world to wish them a "Merry Christmas". The radio is never even turned on.
Those years that we go to Daytona Beach, we arrive by midnight and finish out the year with friends there. Together we will toast the new year about to begin.
Christmas changes with the years, of course. The Baker family table expands with girlfriends who become fiancés and wives, and maybe one day with great-grandchildren. But then, leaves are removed when the elderly pass away, or when there are other important commitments that the younger ones have to keep. This year, John Mark and Daniela will travel back to Brazil to be with her family for the holidays. She has a home and traditions, too.
But there will always be a tree, and stockings by the fireplace. Fried oysters and eggnog. And Lottie's certainly not going anywhere. We will keep on doing it.
Christmas is about the Christ-Child, yes -- but Hallmark hasn't completely missed it. It is also about people and places that have been anchors for our lives. About touching base with our history and heritage. With those things that once formed us -- and, amazingly, form us still.
And there is something to that. We all have our deeply rooted ways to celebrate the season, and most of them revolve around family.
In the first years of our marriage, we had both our families alive and well. Christmas Day was busy, spent mostly on the road, traveling from wherever we lived at the time to Keysville, Virginia, and then on to Suffolk. We didn't have Christmas Eve services in my churches back in those days, so we sometimes got to the Baker's a day or two early. We would come in from Orlando and take the opportunity to visit friends in Farmville and Henderson, NC. We would go to the candlelight service in the little Methodist church in Keysville. Then, on Christmas morning, breakfast with Audrey's mom and dad; brother Steve and his wife, Carolyn; and eventually their sons and our John Mark crowding the table. Egg and sausage soufflé, ham, fried oysters, biscuits, coffee and eggnog. It is still the same. Presents are then opened and the stockings that were hung by the chimney with care are dumped out. Steve, with his video camera, chronicling it all for all these years.
By noon we are through and packing up. Everybody has somewhere else to be later in the day, another round of celebrating.
When John Mark was just a baby we began our tradition of visiting Lottie Moon's grave in Crewe, Virginia. When my mother was still alive and we would drive to Suffolk, our journey took us right by the cemetery. Later, it was out of our way to go there -- we had to be intentional about it -- but we haven't missed a Christmas yet. Rain, sleet, sunshine or snow -- it doesn't matter. Every December 25 we huddle there and read her tombstone -- "For forty years a missionary to China. Faithful unto death". We recount again the story of her death on Christmas Eve, 1912. We proudly tell her what our church has given for missions that year, and the offering named in her memory. We pray a prayer of recommitment to our own call, then take a picture or two, load up the car again and go. Fifteen minutes is all.
Daniela joins us now. We are usually in two cars. She and John Mark may then drive to Danville, to see his childhood friends (a tradition of his own). Audrey and I either point our car northward to Alexandria or southward to Florida. We spend our hours in the car calling colleagues and friends around the world to wish them a "Merry Christmas". The radio is never even turned on.
Those years that we go to Daytona Beach, we arrive by midnight and finish out the year with friends there. Together we will toast the new year about to begin.
Christmas changes with the years, of course. The Baker family table expands with girlfriends who become fiancés and wives, and maybe one day with great-grandchildren. But then, leaves are removed when the elderly pass away, or when there are other important commitments that the younger ones have to keep. This year, John Mark and Daniela will travel back to Brazil to be with her family for the holidays. She has a home and traditions, too.
But there will always be a tree, and stockings by the fireplace. Fried oysters and eggnog. And Lottie's certainly not going anywhere. We will keep on doing it.
Christmas is about the Christ-Child, yes -- but Hallmark hasn't completely missed it. It is also about people and places that have been anchors for our lives. About touching base with our history and heritage. With those things that once formed us -- and, amazingly, form us still.