The Christmas music was playing.
I had myself situated at the kitchen island.
Cards and envelopes were spread out before me.
Letters, Charlie Brown postage stamps, and address labels were nearby.

It is the season of Christmas cards.
My address book and various return addresses on envelopes were before me.
Pen in hand, I was ready to start.
I knew that it would be hours until I finished but that was perfectly fine.

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It was a Christmas concert that brought back the memories.
It was a Christmas concert filled with children that belong to a home school group.
Almost ninety children were on the stage.
Children of all ages, they went from first grade through twelfth grade.

I was invited by a friend of my youngest daughter.
I know you will be blessed, she said.
She was right.
Children in their Christmas best singing their hearts out to the Lord.

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There was one warning I had as a child.
It was a warning almost everyone received back then.
Don’t take any candy from strangers.
That was it; that was supposed to protect us from danger.

It may seem a bit naive but that warning really was sufficient.
It was a time when neighbors looked out for each other.
If you did something wrong or talked back to an adult, your mother knew about it.
Your mother knew about it before you even got home.

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Any mother of boys will attest that boys are quite different from girls.
Their play is different.
Their approach to life is different.
That is by God’s design.

I never saw this more obviously than at Christmas time.
Simple decorations took on new meaning in the hands of my sons.
There was no point in having decorations that added a little whimsy.
What I saw as whimsy, they saw as battle ready.

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The little girl wanted to stop and look at the display.
Her mother was in a hurry.
There were loud protests telling her mother that she wanted to stay.
There were threatening warnings telling the little girl what would happen if she did.

The mother pulled her daughter’s arm towards whatever it was that needed to be done.
The child walked with her little body twisted as she frantically tried to go back.
Her little arm was pointed in the direction she wanted to go.
Her mother had other plans.

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This blog post was originally published two years ago when dear friends lost their son.
I am publishing the post again because other families are hurting.
Other families are grieving.
Especially at Christmas time, the grief is almost too much to bear.

Christmas is a time when the loss of those we love is felt more deeply.
Celebrations go on all around us, yet we are numb.
Carols are sung and music is played wherever we go, but we cannot sing.
We cannot seem to find the joy we are supposed to have this time of year.

God understands.

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‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads…

To my surprise, that poem was running through my head for no apparent reason.
It was running through my head as I emptied the dishwasher.
It was running through my head as I cleaned up the kitchen.
It was running through my head as I was getting dressed for church.

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I am always amazed that Santa Claus can cause so much controversy.
You will often hear of solidly Christian families rejecting Santa.
They choose instead to focus on the birth of Jesus.
That is in fact what Christmas is all about.

Some solidly Christian families choose to focus on Jesus’ birth and enjoy Santa at Christmas.
The lines between the two sides can be very divisive.
They need not be.
As with anything else, it is a matter of the heart.

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I did a double take.
Was that someone hanging from the roof?
I was driving and could not safely turn in the direction of the hanging object.
The cars slowed down a bit in front of me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see red, lots of red.
I slowed down enough to see Santa.
A very limp, lifeless Santa.
An inflatable Santa that had lost its air.

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I hung the wreath on my front door.
It is always so lovely to see fresh greens woven together in such a way.
The red bow at the top reminds me that the festivities will soon begin.
There is nothing more welcoming to people and to birds.

The same wreath that can be so beautiful is also an albatross.
The same wreath with pine cones and berries to please the eye, also pleases the palate.
The palate of the winter birds find the berries a convenient feast.
The winter birds find the wreath a perfect resting place.

It has happened twice before.

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