This is my first morning "alone" since December 20. Lisa went home to Utah yesterday, leaving Craig and me as empty nesters again (and feeling more than a bit sad.) Today I am catching up on things: finally writing our Christmas letter, heading out to Hershey to work on report cards, sorting toys and rearranging the toy closet for the next visit from the grandchildren, etc.
I am also catching up on my reading, so as I ate breakfast (blueberry pancakes made by Lisa!) I opened the December 17 issue of
The Church News. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland's article about his first Christmas away from home has had me thinking ever since I read it. He describes how much he had enjoyed family Christmases when he was growing up, and then experiencing his first Christmas without his family in 1960 while serving as a missionary in England.
He wrote about how different it was from the family Christmases of the past, and how meager some things seemed compared to those experiences - no boisterous family gatherings, none of the familiar activities, but a much simpler Christmas spent serving the Lord.
And then Elder Holland stated (and I paraphrase here), "I learned the difference between enjoying Christmas and understanding it."
Now there's a thought! I couldn't help but reflect back on the Christmas we just had. Probably it was one of the happiest Christmases I have ever experienced. The reason? All my children and their families were here, along with my mother, siblings, mother-in-law, and my niece and nephew. This year Christmas Day fell on the Sabbath, and we experienced a wonderful morning in Church, singing Christmas carols and listening to President Gibb (who just the day prior had invited us out to his barn to ride his horses) speak about the meaning of Christmas.
But did I just enjoy the day, or did I understand it? That's what I am reflecting upon now.
I think perhaps it is a mixture of both. Certainly I enjoyed the day. Family together celebrating the birth of our Savior... doesn't get much better than that. As for the meaning of the day, I think I have a rudimentary understanding of the birth of Christ. At Christmas I think a lot about Mary, the mother of Christ, and how blessed she was to be His mother. And yet that very blessing brought excruciating pain to her as she watched her son (and I deliberately don't capitalize the word there - I am speaking about her love as a mother for her child, Son of God or not) allow Himself be crucified for the good of all of us, including those who were doing the very deed.
I also remember Joseph, an honorable man who was thrust into what must have been at times a bewildering position to be in - but he trusted in God and then did his best to be the earthly father of Jesus Christ. Any parent worries about doing the right thing by and for their child; I can only imagine how inadequate Joseph may have felt occasionally!
And then I think of a time when I was in the depths of despair about my own parenting skills, and how I felt like the worst mother ever, wondering how Heavenly Father could ever have entrusted a child (or six!) to me. Suddenly I heard a voice, reassuring me that I was a good mother and saying some other things about me as a mother that buoyed me up and helped me understand my place, my role at that time.
Drawing upon that experience strengthened me and, I think, made me a better mother and person. If the Lord had confidence in me, how could I not? And perhaps the same was true of Joseph and Mary. They had visits from angels of the Lord, explaining their roles and telling them not to worry. They then had the faith to go on and participate in the great work of the Lord's. That didn't mean that there were no tears, no troubles, no difficulties. It meant that, the work of the Lord could and would be accomplished, a work that through faith on His name, would bless all mankind, past, present, and future. Joseph and Mary had their roles to help the gospel go forth, and so do I.
And that is what I understand about Christmas.