Emmanuel

This may be one of the strangest Christmases I have spent, in terms of breaking the traditional, expected mold of activity. Of course, after saying that I realize that my Christmases have become less traditional and more interrupted as the past few years have gone by. Some of this was by choice, but most of it from circumstance.

This Christmas Eve, on the way back from the hospital, I stopped by the church I attended when I lived in Charlotte, NC to catch the Candlelight service. It was a place where I had found a loving community, and even if my friends weren't there this night, I needed to capture part of that familiarity. I had to laugh when the pastor talked about people going to church on Christmas Eve to capture that “Christmas-y feeling,” since that was exactly why I was there. It was perhaps the only part of my Christmas that would be comfortably and predictably traditional. The swarm of shopping, tree-trimming, cookie-baking, and caroling has gone on with almost no notice from me, other than the occasional wistful glance.

The pastor went on to talk about how some people would already be thinking about getting to the "real" part of Christmas—opening presents and eating the holiday meal. For my family, I knew these would be the parts of Christmas that would be abbreviated at best, perhaps even bittersweet. This year I was 400 miles away from both home and my husband, and my sister and nephew would be stuck at the hospital rather than be able to spend the day with me, her daughter, and our parents (also in from out of state). While I love to give presents to my loved ones, we've tried to scale back on the excess in recent years. But this year, even the thought of splurging on gifts was not an option. And it turned out that I had little to no time to plan or even shop for holiday fixin's, so I dispatched my parents at the last minute to pick up a few things before the grocery stores closed on Christmas Eve.

The pastor’s final message for us on Christmas Eve was about Emmanuel—“God with us,” a baby’s birth bringing hope to mankind. Never before has my Christmas been so centered around a baby’s birth as this year, making the message especially poignant. Just over a week prior I had the privilege of witnessing the birth of my nephew, cutting his umbilical cord, and watching him take his first peek at his mother. After my sister was released, there were still daily trips from her home in SC to the hospital in uptown Charlotte since the little one was scheduled for heart surgery a week before Christmas. It still amazes me the miracles doctors can perform, especially on the tiny, delicate frame of a newborn child. He is recovering well, and on Christmas Eve moved to a transition unit where his mother stays with him 24 hours a day. They will be there for another week or so.

The innocence of that child is a wonder to behold. He reacts to the world, crying only from hunger, pain, or discomfort, not encumbered by the false expectations and fears of the adults around him. He knows and is calmed by his mother’s voice, and watches her with eyes transfixed. He is Emmanuel, as we each are, holding inside the promise of the Christ child. He evokes in us the highest emotion—that of a pure and all-encompassing Love. What a gift indeed if we too, could become like the little children we used to be--trusting, curious, loving, imaginative, and free. If we could only approach each other without suspicion and without guile; if we could only love each other without reservation. When we all look at the world through the lens of that Love, then we will truly find God with us.

Love has come--a light in the darkness! Love explodes in the Bethlehem skies.
See, all heaven has come to proclaim it. Hear how their song of joy arises:
Love! Love! Born unto you, a Savior! Love! Love! Glory to God on high!

Love is born! Come share in the wonder. Love is God now asleep in the hay.
See the glow in the eyes of His mother. What is the name her heart is saying?
Love! Love! Love is the name she whispers. Love! Love! Jesus, Immanuel.

Love has come--He never will leave us! Love is life everlasting and free.
Love is Jesus within and among us. Love is the peace our hearts are seeking.
Love! Love! Love is the gift of Christmas. Love! Love! Praise to You, God on high!

I have a new nephew!

And he now has his own blog!!

Preston Dean's Diary

This is where I am

I'm out of state, to help my sister, who, within the week, will have a newborn son. With my emotional, financial, and physical energy reserves much lower than I would like, I'm certainly not helping as much as I feel I should. I think about that, then I decide not to feel guilty. This is where I am. Plus, the main reason for me to be here is to be with her in the hospital during the birth, and I absolutely know that I will accomplish that. And, I'm having fun hanging out with my teenage niece and helping her with homework--hey, something I'm good at!

I struggle with what to write here at times, because the depression and the heavy handful of life issues I'm dealing with overshadow so much. No one else wants to hear about this again, I think. But you know what? This is where I'm at, daggone* it. And, this is my dadblum* blog. (*Substitute profane language.) I need to talk about this, for myself. So those that seem to be avoiding me (could be my own paranoia) because it's all I have to talk about can just get over* themselves.

But there always seems to be the right people there at the right time. Have you noticed that? None of us can be everything to everyone, so we can only do what we can when we can. (In other words, I need to remember that those people are dealing with their own crap* too.) On this trip, I've been able to catch up with a few close friends, and update them with where I'm at. My friend/manager from my last job in NC, now the owner of the same store, took me out to the Macaroni Grill last week and I was able to discuss all of this with him in length. Another friend from my old church, a very wise and compassionate lady, was able to empathize from her own experience. In both cases I felt buoyed up by their love and understanding. It's like having two more lifelines, rather than putting the stress on just a few. I love all of my lifelines--your compassion is phenomenal.

I feel like I'm starting to open myself up, too. Open up my heart so people can really know me. I've become adept at hiding my cards until I'm sure there's a good chance that someone will reciprocate. Exploring my personality issues, and also being 'out there' with my opinions on things, even when it's controversial, is helping me to open my heart. After all, life is too short to hold back. My 'natural' reserve may simply be a defense mechanism I picked up early in life. While I may have needed it then for my own survival, I need to shed it now in order for my authentic self to survive. I have a heart so full of love and passion that it's blinding. If I continue to hold that in, I will smother the fire.

Recently, I followed a sentimental urge to email a very old friend. We're still peripherally in touch but don't keep in close contact these days. I laid it all out on the line, and was quite on edge waiting for a reply. But it was out there; I did what I had to do. Once I let go of it, out of the blue I got a reply. And it will be a letter I will treasure forever. Following my sentimental urge helped speed healing in two hearts. Meanwhile, I found out that there's a good likelihood that another person in my past is lurking on my blog . They certainly have access to as they are now friends with someone very close to me on one of those social networking sites. After learning about this, months after the fact, I stressed over what to 'do' for about a week, and finally I let go and did the only thing I can do given the situation. I opened myself up and made my page public so they can lurk all they want. After all, I have never wanted to erase their memory, and this may be the only way to invite them back into my life.

When all else fails, and there's no one around, there's nothing better than music to soothe the soul. I love that wherever I go, where I have online access I can play my playlist.com music selections. (I also stole hubby's iPod for this trip too, which is great where there's no free WiFi in the area to suckle off of.) An hour of Mason, an hour of U2, followed by a mishmash of my other favorite musicians. I can zone out, relax, even nap and still wake up to the wildly sweet sedative medley of my heart.