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December 27, 2010

Jesus - the Bringer of hope, the Reason for the season

He looked across the room at me, presents and wrapping paper scattered all over the floor, and I knew what my brother was thinking: this is a lot of presents. My sister squealed with delight as she opened another Barbie doll - just the one she had wanted. It was Mike's turn now, and we all turned our attention to him as he ripped open the paper for another surprise gift.

Mom had gone all out this year. I couldn't imagine how much money she had spent on us kids. She had always loved Christmas, and the past few years, Christmas had been wonderful, but this year was extreme. She wanted it to be special. I knew in a way, she was trying to make up for every Christmas she would be missing in the future.

This was her last Christmas. We all knew it - the doctors, the family, even my little sister, only 5 years old, knew something wasn't quite right. They had been telling her for years that it was her last Christmas, but this year we knew it was true. And so she soaked it all in, sang every Christmas carol with reverance and gusto, and breathed deeply the smell of Christmas cookies.

We shopped like it was a fever that had overtaken us. We took our time, lingered over the small shops and displays, drank coffee, ate doughnuts at the local cafe and giggled on the way home, eager to get the presents wrapped and under the tree.

She had always loved Christmas.
We kids tried to make it special for her too. We gave her gift after gift that was a meager attempt to express to her how much we loved her, how much we were going to miss her, but the sweaters and scarves and figurines didn't do justice to the emotions of that day. Words choked in our throats as we managed a simple "you're welcome" after every gift she opened. She was delighted with every offering of love, and we knew she would cherish these gifts for the rest of her life.

The rest of her life...

Only God knew how much time she had with us. In those moments, the moments that we wanted to hold on to, time seemed to go on fast-forward speed. We were too young to have figured out how to slow it down and enjoy it. Perhaps no one ever really figures that out, though I think most people try at one point or another. So we savored what we could, cleaned up afterwards, and moved on with life. Christmas, as it always does, faded quickly as the normal routine of life snuck back in like a thief and stole the cherished break, the slower pace, the special moments.

Soon it was Spring. She loved spring almost as much as she loved Christmas. It was another magical time of year - a different magic, the magic of rebirth and life. Except this Spring was a spring of endings, a Spring that brought life to the earth, but death to our family. That Spring we came to grips with the truth that had haunted us that Christmas prior. Her life, which had teetered on the edge for so many years, the life that had fought valiantly though not victoriously against the disease that ravaged her body, finally gave in to the beckonings of the grave. That Spring brought death and ushered our family into a new season all together - a season of grief, a season of loss, and season of change.

Eight long, full years have passed since that Last Christmas. Slowly redemption has crept back into our lives. Slowly change has come and brought with it traces of joy. And now, this year, came the first Christmas that I did not think about loss, did not grieve her death. This year, our family felt complete. It's different - the mother that fills the seat across the table from my dad is a different woman than what I grew up with, but she is the matriarch of our family, a gift, a reminder that death does not, nor will it ever, reign. This year felt complete.

Really, that Christmas eight years ago marked the realization that life was changing. That Spring she died, but really, because of Jesus, the Reason for all of this celebration in the first place, death was not the end of the story. Though death felt like it had the final say, we know that she truly stepped into a new season - an Eternity - of Life with Jesus. That Christmas was the last one we will celebrate with her on earth, but though my mother is no longer a part of our family's Christmas celebration, we still continue to celebrate and honor the Reason for the celebration, the Author of our story, the Savior who came to earth in the humblest of ways to ensure that death will NOT have the final say. He brought us hope, a hope that reigns over my story today, a hope that reminds me that though my mother was not with me this Christmas, she is now living with the Bringer of Hope.

She always loved Christmas. And I love that now, instead of celebrating the birth of Jesus, she is celebrating life WITH Jesus, in His presence, finally and eternally fully alive.

2 comments:

  1. Breathtakingly beautiful Kayla. Through the tears, I say thank you for sharing. Thankful to hear that joy is being restored in this season...I know it's been a long time coming!

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  2. Wow, Kayla! My comments are ditto to Stacey's. That was a very moving piece. Enjoyed seeing your two families' photos of Christmas. I'm happy for the joy you felt this year.

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