All was calm, all was bright

Christmas this year was absolutely magical.

What infused the air with magic? I don’t know if it was being homeless and at my dad’s – which meant a whole lot less doing this year, and instead a lot more being. Or could it be that my husband did pretty much all of the shopping, just leaving the wrapping to me? Or was it the fact that the baby was finally well and happy, and mommy could finally savor the tastes of the season? Or that the toddler was finally old enough to brim with anticipation? Perhaps most of all it was that my eyes were primed to see each moment pregnant with grace.

And grace-filled it was. Christmas Eve began with unexpected sleigh rides with Santa, and ended with a quiet Christmas Eve all dressed up with ones we love dearly and a feast made for kings. We lingered long by the tree with a few gifts exchanged, put the toddler down too late with new toy tightly gripped, and sipped an adult version of hot cocoa by a roaring fire. The evening of course concluded with a few last minute wrapping tasks, and the piling beneath the tree.

We awoke Christmas morning to our smiling Beautiful Grace, and lingered in bed with her between us until the toddler awoke. Stockings were opened, cars zoomed over the carpet, and then a table set with the traditional Brandt Christmas rolls and the parental necessity of steaming cups of coffee. Those rolls are the taste of Christmas for me, a flavor associated with the morning for as long as I can remember, with the exception of six Christmases spent in China.

Then the walk down the hall, the revealing of the tree to the toddler, and the glee at a table sized for her beneath the tree. We coaxed her from her chair to open one gift, but as this gift was colored pencils, a quick request for paper was made. And she was back at her table. “Do you want to open more gifts?” “No thanks, mommy.” The toddler as yet unspoiled by the unquenchable hunger for ever more, and able to delight and savor the gift of the moment. And so the adults sipped coffee and savored as well and daddy swayed the baby to sleep and we lingered in long unhurried moments beneath the tree.

Eventually the toddler was persuaded that more delights awaited, and we slowly made our way through the rest of the packages. Of course, books unwrapped meant a necessary pause for reading time at the new table.

Gifts eventually were all unwrapped, and playtime beneath the tree with daddy followed, but then it was time to pack things up to head to Jeff’s family gathering. We arrived, arms full of packages and children, and hearts fuller.

There was more present opening and glee, and the favorite one-liner of the day – Eliana excitedly opened the box of the little tyke car gifted from aunt and uncle…only to exclaim rather dramatically at the yet to be assembled parts – “the car is broken!” Who would think to give her a broken car for Christmas? While the team worked to assemble the car, Eliana and I retreated. Mommy got to lay beside her firstborn in attempts to coax her into a much needed nap. After a fair number of “honk, honk, beep beeps” on my nose, and a long strain of recollections of the day, we both drifted off to sleep. I woke first, and managed to slip out of bed without waking her, lingering to take in the peacefulness of a child at rest.

And peace did reign that day. And the baby wrapped in our arms and in our hearts made us particularly grateful for a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes so many years ago. A baby born to take a throne, to reign over life and death and all that is on this earth. We are thankful for where we see visible evidence of that reign…for lungs that fill with air and diagnoses proved wrong…and plead for more…more of His kingdom come on earth.