This! This is the Day!

by Donna Poole

It was a great Christmas season at the little church on the corner of two dirt roads, weeks of wonderful holiday celebrations at our old farmhouse, and its music still lingers in my heart. It’s not over; I’m not ready to let it go, because this was my year!

I don’t know if I’ve ever enjoyed a Christmas season more! Oh, it wasn’t perfect. Pneumonia and two other nasty infections invaded, required seven weeks of antibiotics, and forced me to miss long anticipated holiday events at the grandkids’ schools. I had to skip my cancer treatments too. My husband, John, also got sick. Unwelcomed guests in form house repairs showed up.

But oh, the joy that rang through it all, echoing yet like the old bell at our country church. Have you ever seen the beautiful frozen fog that sometimes forms on trees and makes you catch your breath with delight when the sunrise hits it and the world for just a second sparkles like a diamond? That’s what this season was like for me. I wish I could package it all up, put a big red bow on it, and let you peek inside so you could share my joy.

I think I’ll try!

Let’s begin at church. You’ll have to drive up a dirt road to get there and try not to get muddy when you get out. It’s an acquired art, and one I haven’t yet mastered. This was our fiftieth Christmas here; we were twenty five when John came as pastor. Like any small country church, we’ve known times of feast and famine when it comes to attendance. Right now, we’re big on love but small on numbers, and we didn’t really have enough children to pull off the traditional Christmas program. Someone suggested we skip it.

Skip the program on John’s fiftieth Christmas here? I don’t think so! Over my dead body!

My daughter Kimmee helped me, and we wrote a program that featured all ages. We called it “The Invisible Woman.” Everyone at church was willing to help. The choir sang three awesome numbers; the angels glowed, and each child and old person played their part to perfection. We had beautiful special music too. We felt again the ancient awe as we worshipped the God who loved us and sent his Son!

The program ended and people clustered around the Christmas table at the back of the church. Everyone got a bag packed with candy people brought to share with each other. Each year our family makes Christmas ornaments to give away; this year Kimmee did most of the work. People took the ornament they wanted off the tree on the table. Cards and hugs were exchanged. And when people said, “Merry Christmas!” they meant it.

George Fee used to attend our church until God called him home many years ago. After every program George smiled his famous smile and said, “That was wonderful. Couldn’t have seen anything better, not even in New York City!”

And if you don’t think I heard George say that to me after our Christmas program this year, you need to go to the doctor and get your imagination checked.

Oh, and we had my favorite, the candlelight church service. That’s an informal time; everyone who wants to can read, or sing, or play an instrument. Carole Knowlton always reads A Cup of Christmas Tea, and then, each year, it’s suddenly Christmas for me. John closes with a short devotional; we dim the lights, and we sing “Silent Night.”

Now come over to our farmhouse, the one given us by a sweet neighbor years ago, called to heaven just a few months ago. But that beautiful story is one I’ve already told, and I’ll probably tell it again another day.

We start preparing for our big family Christmas early. We get the tree the day after Thanksgiving, and this year’s tree was a beauty! She stands to this day, tall and proud, still drinking water, still alive, still, like me, soaking up leftover Christmas joy and not ready yet to say goodbye to it all.

Long before our family gathering we make the Christmas cookies John’s parents made when he was a boy and put them in the freezer. We plan and replan how to fit twenty-four of us at tables. We clean, shop, and cook. I cook the main part of the meal, each of the families brings good food too, and Kimmee makes fantastic desserts.

The hardest part of it all, the part that requires prayer and a miracle, is getting all of us together on a day and time that works for everyone—and not having anyone get sick. This year, it happened on December 22. The rest of my family probably guessed, but only God could see the overflowing joy in my heart as they all came in the kitchen door. When those dear faces gathered together, and our grandson read Luke chapter two, and our granddaughter was home from Physician’s Assistant school and back with us, when my children and their wonderful spouses, and my fourteen beautiful grandchildren crowded together, and made such a delightful noise and mess—I’ve never been happier.

It ended so quickly. John and I stood outside in the soft falling rain and waved goodbye. When we came back inside, not all of the wetness I brushed from my cheeks was from the rain.

Because, you see, living in the limbo of cancer teaches you to treasure like never before each day, each moment when family stories are retold, and new ones are made.

Not long-ago John preached a sermon he titled “This is the Day!” His text was, “This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Oh yes, we will say “This is the day,” this day and every day! Whatever it brings! We will find something to be thankful for, and somedays you don’t have to look too hard, because joy wraps you up so warmly you can hardly catch your breath. Family Christmas was like that for me. I can’t thank my family enough for giving it to me.

Christmas Day itself was quieter here with just the four of us, Kimmee and Drew, our daughter and son-in-law who live with us, and John and me. Kimmee and Drew made us their traditional Christmas brunch with food so delicious I dare not tell you lest you get distracted from the rest of my story. After brunch, the four of us exchanged some gifts.

As we began picking up wrapping paper, Drew said to wait just a minute, because he had received a message for us on his cell. He read, “Hello-ho-ho! This is Kris Kringle, finally taking a moment to catch up on some post-Christmas Night messages to my favorite helper! You may have not noticed, but I had to hide a special gift for John and Donna in the dishwasher. Could you be a dear and tell them about it? It would really make my Christmas Day extra, extra wonderful.”

Out to the dishwasher we went. It had been broken now for over a year, but we’d kept it because its top provided valuable counter top space. Inside we found a gigantic red bow attached to a plastic bag of dishwasher pods. We stared at Kimmee and Drew. This couldn’t mean what we thought, did it? They laughed.

“Your new dishwasher is coming tomorrow.”

Flabbergasted is a good word, is it not? Christmas tears are special, aren’t they?

Our church family, family, neighbors, and friends showered us with love and gifts this year. The monetary gifts alone more than made up for the unexpected house expenses. This was all wonderful, and it made John and me cry. I mean really cry.

There was more, so much more—playing marathon games of Phase 10, going to see Christmas lights twice, eating at a little deli we love, spending time with beloved friends from out of town, a turkey dinner on New Year’s Day.

But what made this Christmas season so very dear to me was the strands of love running through each of our days and connecting us to the one great Love that will still be here when I finally agree to take down the tree and the decorations. It’s the Love that never fails.

God loved us and sent his son. Those seven perfect words change time and eternity.

Jesus willingly came to earth to make a way for us all to go Home for a forever Christmas. No tearful driveway goodbyes. No shutting off the lights and closing the doors of the old country church. No ending the music. No putting away the decorations.  

Here’s how the Bible says it.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” –John 3:16

Believe what exactly? The rest of the Bible tells us what we already instinctively know. We’ve all got a big problem with sin. Jesus, the God man who never sinned, did something beyond comprehension on the cross. He gathered into his own heart every sin ever committed, suffered the horrible guilt and pain of each of them, and made them not to be. And now every sinner who falls at his feet and believes is suddenly on the road Home to God.

And that is why, even though one day you may stand in the driveway waving a tearful goodbye to me as I leave this earth, or I to you, joy will still remain. Christmas, real Christmas, never needs to leave our hearts. Because we have that long, forever tomorrow, we can say, “This! This is the day!” We can say it sobbing, but we can say it!

I suppose I will have to give in soon and say goodbye to this tree, pack away the decorations, and save the music for another year. Well, maybe not the music.

This afternoon a friend reminded me that January 7 is the day the Russian Orthodox Church celebrates Christmas, and so it’s not too late to say “Merry Christmas.”

It’s never too late. So, if you see me on July 4 and I say it to you, just laugh and hug me. And don’t be surprised if I ask you, “Did you know that this is the day?”

The end

***

These blogs are now available in book form on Amazon:

Backroad Ramblings Volume One: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Two: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Three: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

I have six other books on Amazon as well, four fiction books in the “Life at the Corners” series, and two children’s Christmas picture books.

Please follow me on Facebook at Donna Poole, author