Oh, come, all ye faithful, Joyful and triumphant! Oh, come ye, oh, come ye to Bethlehem; Come and behold him Born the king of angels: Oh, come, let us adore him, Oh, come, let us adore him, Oh, come, let us adore him, Christ the Lord.
I pray that you and your family have a very merry and blessed Christmas. Rejoice in the coming of our Savior. He has come indeed!
I loved every single thing about being Alaska's child. I loved playing in the snow and warming my wet gloves on the dryer vent so I didn't have to waste one minute going inside for a new pair. I loved the moose that would jump over the fence to spend the night in our backyard. I loved the forget-me-nots and fireweed and bringing in bundles for our dining room table.
It was a painful day when I heard the words "we're moving." As a nine-year-old it was just too much for me to bare. My parents, having lived quite a long time in the last frontier, were more than ready to leave the long dark winters behind and decided to move to the lower-48. They were full of eager excitement. I was full of denial and the feeling that my life was completely and hopelessly over.
We moved to Pennsylvania (to be closer to my grandparents) a few days before Christmas. I remember looking back one last time at my childhood home and thinking "nothing will ever fell like home again."
We temporarily moved into my grandparents' condo as a first stop in our great adventure. By the time we got settled and slept off our jet-lag, it was Christmas Eve. I didn't feel much like celebrating...I just wanted to go home. We made a large dinner that night (much different that our usual Christmas Eve tradition) and settled in the living room around the tree. I begged to open one present, just one I promised. My dad picked one out for me telling me he bought it all by himself. I carefully opened the small box to find a little red pocket knife. My dad told me that I was old enough and thought that every kid needed to know how to use one.
I thanked my dad and put the gift away thinking that was it until Christmas morning. Instead my grandfather jumped up and said, "well, I guess we should all open just one." So the adults each picked out a package and ooh'd and awe'd over each other's gifts. My dad picked up the wrapping paper and announced it was probably time for bed. "No, we should probably just open one more," my grandpa said from the corner. Well, who was I to argue. I dug right in and found another with my name on it. "Well, Laura can open another," grandpa said again. And before we knew it, Christmas Eve turned into Christmas early morning and we had opened every single present under the tree.
I fell asleep that night on my blow-up mattress in the living room, with a smile on my face, thinking that, although I still didn't love the idea that I had to move, there might be some new traditions to be had in this new home.
Now, 17 years later, having our big family dinner, opening presents, and relaxing by the fire Christmas Eve remains my favorite holiday tradition. Although my grandfather passed away 7 years ago, I can feel him with us every time I open just one more present on Christmas Eve.
Friday morning, the day after Thanksgiving, I jumped to my computer with excitement. I had been waiting all year for this. Ever since the Christmas decorations were taken down and newness of the year was sinking in, I was waiting.
I opened my Pandora that was bookmarked on my computer. Pushed the button for my favorite Christmas station and waited to hear it.
At age 17, Robert Robinson and some of his drinking buddies decided to attend an evangelistic meeting, with a plan to make fun of the proceedings. When the pastor began to preach, Robert felt as if the sermon was just for him. He did not respond to the altar call that night, but the words of the evangelist would haunt him for the next three years.
On Dec. 10, 1755, at age 20, Robert finally yielded his life to Christ, and very soon thereafter answered a call to the ministry. Three years later in 1757, as he was preparing to preach a sermon Robert wrote Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing to complement his sermon.
The music for the hymn was composed by Asahel Nettleton in 1813.
When I selected songs for our wedding, the thought of having Come Thou Fount played while we lit the unity candle was kind of an arbutrary decision. I had heard it a few times in church. I liked the melody. The words were pretty. It would sound great with the rustic feel we were going for.
Now, 2 and a half years later, it's hard to explain what this song does in our home.
It's not really a Christmas song and is probably only in the Christmas playlist because Sufjan Stevens added it to his holiday album.
But thinking about Christmas these days, I don't think about the tree or the food or even the presents.
This song is Christmas to me now.
The words are hauntingly beautiful and speak so much to how we should worship during this season. It speaks of singing the Lord's grace, never ceasing in our praise. It asks the Lords to teach us how to worship with tounges on fire.
Even in our times of sorrow and confusion, the Lord seeks me.
Even though often run away from Him, Jesus was born to bring me home to our Father.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.
When this song comes on the radio, I stop. I stop typing, I stop working. I pause. Every time I hear this song all I can do is lay my head down and pray. To redevote my life and my heart to the Lord.
It's a love song to God.
During the next few weeks, as time seems to slip away, as the pressure of the season build up, it's so important for us to pause. To sit in the stillness of the love of the Lord and breathe it in. This is what this song does for Kyle and I. It is a true blessing and continues to fill us with the spirit of Christ and the true meaning of the holiday.
Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I've come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;
O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.
Each week, I look forward to reading, and posting, and praying into your requests for the week. Although some weeks are better than others as I try to intentionally pray for you, please know that I do think of you all often. I continually ask God to bless you and your families, bring us closer as a community, and to use you and your blog to minister to others.
As we enter into a new year together, I'd love to know how I can pray for you during this new season. On January 1st, I would love to post our prayer requests for 2012.
They can be big or little.
Simple or complicated.
Tangible or immeasurable.
God takes and uses them all.
Feel free to email your prayer requests to me at iamalongfortheride @ gmail dot com.
"Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another,that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working." James 5:14-16
In my journal I write letters to my kids. The idea came to me from a conversation with my sister-in-law who, while in her early twenties, lost her mom, the mother-in-law I never met, to cancer. Belinda, that was her name, had a brain tumor for 2 years and during that time she journaled and wrote letters to her children and others. Molly, my sister-in-law, shared how much she treasures those words from her mom and Molly's love for these letters inspired me. My own mom has a letter from her father that he wrote before his death when she was only 10. What a gift to have a letter from your mom or dad telling you how much you are loved.
I've written off an on in diaries and prayer journals all my life. Now that I am a mom of 4 young kids who spends most of each day chasing them around, I've got more than ever to write about. Knowing that the things I write may one day--hopefully many, many years from now--be treasures to my children motivates me to write more. Here are some other reasons I am writing letters to my children in my journals.
I don't have to do it regularly, just when something funny happens or on a significant day, like my son's first day of Kindergarten. I am not a very disciplined person, and I get discouraged when I vow to do something and then I don't keep up with it. Then I just scrap the whole idea. But these are my letters so I can write whenever feel like it. Because I'm the Mom, that's why!
My kids will have my perspective of their growing-up years-- my frazzledness, my worries, my prayers for them, how I see them and love them during this time. Maybe they'll have more sympathy for me when I'm older. Maybe they'll upgrade me to a private room in the nursing home.
I'm big on handwriting. Of course I love to email & update my Facebook status with funny stories about my kids, but I'm glad that I'm writing some of them down too. There is just something wonderful about seeing a loved one's penmanship. My mom has beautiful handwriting and I would know it anywhere. Molly says that being able to see her mom's handwriting is one of her favorite things about Belinda's journals and letters. I am hopeful that my kids will feel the same way.
It is like a thankfulness journal-- writing about my kids and to my kids allows me to focus on what I love about them and what makes them unique. It helps me to appreciate them even more than I already do and reminds me of what an honor and a blessing it is to be their mom.
It gives me perspective. As Ferris Bueller said "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it." This time in my family's life is moving way too fast! Keeping track of some of the big things and lots of the little things helps me not to focus on the fact that I never get to go to bathroom without a visitor or two.
Even if I write these letters once a month, or twice a year, or even once a year, I hope my kids will enjoy reading them and getting to see their childhood through my sleepy, but loving, eyes.
***
Check out the other entries in the On Journaling series.
As we gear up for Christmas, I thought I'd take the next few weeks to share a few of my favorite goodies from my sponsors' beautiful shops!
Go ahead. Add a few of their items to your wish list too!
Paige has such beautiful items in her shop, Pink Lemonade. The photos are great, the colors are perfect, and she has lots of one-of-a kind items as well.
