Mary, mother of Jesus. My heart can barely grasp what an extraordinary woman she must have been to be chosen the mother of the world’s Savior. I imagine her perfect, without sin. Though this is unlikely, God blessed her above all women. Yet His path for Mary wasn’t easy. To avoid disgrace as an unwed mother, God instructed her fiancée to marry her and to travel together from Nazareth to safety in Bethlehem.
The young couple trekked on unpaved trails for four days along flatlands and over hills, possibly in freezing temperatures. When they reached Bethlehem, no doubt weary, they had to settle for a cave—used to house animals—in which to rest where Mary gave birth.
The least desired place for a birthing mother became the most honored and beloved story of all time. The young couple listened to God, trusted, obeyed, and persevered. Hard as it was—which many of us can’t comprehend just how difficult—God provided for them along the way and when they reached their destination.
I wonder if the world silenced to hear the first cry of the King. If an unidentified light glowed in the dim cave the moment Jesus entered the world. If the waters rested and the winds ceased. Luke 2:13-14 tells us after shepherds in Bethlehem were told of Jesus’ birth, the angels sang. We will never know the full magnificence of all that took place during the nativity.
What an honor it is to have included the nativity in my novel Dress Shop Miracles. It’s one of my favorite scenes as my characters traveled from a difficult path to hope, love, and miracles. I hope you love the story of Molly and Ted as much as I did writing it, and guess what?
I’m giving away one e-book copy of Dress Shop Miracles via Amazon Kindle.
To qualify for the drawing simply: 1) subscribe to my website at diannmarieandre.com; 2) then comment below this article (atmy website) that you subscribed via Christmas Blog Tour. The winner will be announced December 24, 2022.
As a child, each Sunday we could count on roast beef for dinner. If we’d lost all calendars and had no idea what day it was, seeing roast beef on the table would give us a clue it was at least Sunday. Honestly, because it was so predictable, I made fun of it.
Until I moved to a dorm and my family Sunday dinner was whatever I found in the dining hall.
It was then I started to understand the importance of traditions. As a young adult I no longer complained about a Christmas Eve present, a tradition, and knew it was going to be pajamas. Once I married, we’d add attending Christmas Eve service before opening that present. On Christmas morning we’d read Luke 2 before opening presents. Christmas dinner would be at my childhood home, where there would be a ham dinner. Once I got pregnant and violently ill thanks to the spiral ham, the tradition forward was turkey.
Fast forward and our two children are young adults. One is married and about to experience his first Christmas away from home and with his new traditions. Both my parents and my in-laws are gone. The moments I reflect on those past Christmas seasons I realize it is the traditions I hold close.
Some traditions might seem silly like the one my sister, a teacher, created “reindeer food” outside Christmas Eve with my kids. When her son came along, we added him to the process. I still remember his glee when he’d go outside and find the glittery concoction had been touched. Even at 23 and 19, last year my kids headed out to help spread the food. It’s a fond memory for both of them.
There are also traditions that probably only our family invested in. My parents worked hard, but like most families in the 70’s and 80’s, from paycheck to paycheck. Mom did a lot of her shopping after Christmas because it was affordable. One gift she stumbled upon was a vendor at the mall who created a “blue ice village.” Each year I would receive a piece. I was excited to showcase each piece under the tree. To this day, that village goes under my tree. Mom etched each piece with the year she gave it to me. That village means the world to me not for the unique look, but because it came from my mom.
Last year was our first Christmas without a parent. Our boxes were surrounded by memories and traditions I now see I took for granted. I assumed those things would always be there, just like my parents would. The reality is they are gone, and if I don’t pick up the traditions, they die too.
We decided to keep mom’s traditions but added one. Instead of opening a Christmas Eve present, we chose something with a humorous side to help us through our grief. We drew names among the kids, my sister, and myself and chose a white elephant gift. Once unwrapped our tokens included a large glittery rubber duck to a calendar of dogs doing their business. If we keep that game up, it will be a fun tradition that I’ll cherish as one that got us through a rather bleak time.
If you’re facing a Christmas full of traditions that don’t make sense to you, or seems too costly in time or finances, ask God to help you see the interaction as He does. For me, a lot of what I thought was boring and predictable when I was younger was in reality tangible moments with my family I’ll never get back. Those traditions became precious memories, and that’s what I’m left with. There’s nothing in a store that could equal the value of those Christmas times.
What are some of your Christmas traditions? What do you think of them?
Julie Arduini loves to encourage readers to find freedom in Christ by surrendering the good, the bad, and —maybe one day—the chocolate. She’s the author of the new contemporary romance series SURRENDERING HEARTS (Anchored Hearts, Repairing Hearts, +four more.) Her other romance series is SURRENDERING TIME (Entrusted, Entangled, Engaged.) She also co-wrote a YA series with her daughter, SURRENDERING STINKIN’ THINKIN’ (You’re Beautiful, You’re Amazing, You’re Brilliant.) Her stand-alone romances include MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN and RESTORING CHRISTMAS. Julie maintains a blog at juliearduini.com and participates in the team blog Christians Read. She resides in Ohio with her husband and daughter. Learn more by visiting her at http://linktr.ee/JulieArduini. Her newest release can be found at https://www.amazon.com/juliearduiniAnchored-Hearts-Surrendering-Book
After more than seven years of giving of myself and going above and beyond in serving my residents at the nursing home, I found myself experiencing extreme burnout and fatigue.
Rev. Edward Hamilton Sears struggled with his own breakdown and melancholy in the 1840s.
He struggled with the dark world, “full of sin and strife” and not “hearing the Christian message.” This inspired him to write a five-stanza poem, first published in 1849, that he had worked on for over a decade.
The lyrics were set to the tune “Carol” written by Richard Starrs Willis, a student of Felix Mendelssohn. Today we know this carol as “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.”
The song comes from the story of the angels appearing to the shepherds in Luke 2:14. The angels spoke of “Peace on the Earth, good will to men.”
“It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” is considered to be the first Christmas carol composed in the United States and published in the same decade as the resounding Dicken’s classic “A Christmas Carol”.
The song reminds me of the 1984 movie, with the same title as the hymn, and starring Mickey Rooney. Rooney plays a retired cop, who has a heart attack, and dies. However, he’s allowed one week to return to earth and show his grandson the seasonal glories of Christmas.
Christmas is one of the busiest times of the years for many of us. Sometimes we feel as if we’re in survival mode instead of slowing down and savoring the season. For years, this is exactly how I felt. I had so much to do for work, that my personal Christmas shopping and plans, had to be completed by Thanksgiving in order to stay sane.
During those seven years of serving in the nursing home, I was responsible for planning and implementing Christmas for 120 residents. Fund-raising occurred year-round and major planning began around Labor Day. During the Christmas season, there were cookies with Santa, an outing to look at Christmas lights, Santa’s workshop, countdown activities, sing-a-longs, two Christmas parties for residents (we didn’t have enough space for one party) and a party for the staff.
These activities required considerable planning and preparation. From having youth groups help us put up and decorate twenty-five trees (from a 12-foot tree to the three fiber optic trees on each nurse’s station) to purchasing and wrapping presents for each resident, to accepting and handing out donated blankets and stocking stuffers.
This year I’ve transitioned to another position within healthcare and am looking forward to having time to savor the season. To slow down and find some new traditions that can be enjoyed and savored. To have time to reflect on the true meaning of the season—the birth of Jesus Christ. To search for that peace on earth, good will to men.
How do you reflect on the meaning of God coming to earth in the form of a baby?
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Bio:
Diana Leagh Matthews shares God’s love through her story from rebel to redeemed. Her day job is as a volunteer coordinator, but at night she writes and hunts genealogy. She gives programs as a speaker, teacher, and vocalist, and also presents historical monologues. Leagh (pronounced Lee) is the author of History Made Real, Fun with Words, 90 Breath Prayers for the Caregiver, and others in the Breath Prayers series. She writes the history behind hymns at DianaLeaghMatthews.com and would love to connect with you https://linktr.ee/dianaleaghmatthews.
Northern Hearts (Heroes of the Tundra Book 2) is my Christmas novella set in the real-life town of Churchill, Manitoba, Canada. It’s called the Polar Bear Capitol of the World. I set my entire series there, and my husband and I flew up in 2019 so that I could do proper research on the town and its polar bear research facilities.
I set this story during the Christmas in between Northern Deception (Book 1) and Northern Protector (Book 3). The inspiration for the story came to me out of the blue—I love it when my brain and creativity strikes like that—because I was thinking about family situations and secrets.
I had the vision of a rich young woman with every advantage she could have in her life, but still yearning for more. And her family held a long, dark secret in the past. She’s about to find out about a family member she had never known existed before, and how that person had been following her life from afar.
The hero is the opposite. He’s grown up without a proper family in the foster care system and the unknown family member of the heroine has been a stand-in mother figure for him. When the hero and heroine meet and are forced to work together for thirty days to meet the legal requirements of the family member’s will, they have to examine what their relationships mean to them and learn to work together.
Being a romance, they will fall in love, but I include some real-life festivities that take place in Churchill, and some traditions that I wish I’d done myself over the years. I believe that family traditions keep memories alive and serve the purpose of keeping families intact, especially when children are young and growing up. Once they’re grown up, some traditions need to change to facilitate the changes in the family make-up, for example, adult children marrying and the “family” enlarging.
Like the Sabbath being made for man, not man for the Sabbath, as Jesus taught us, I think that family traditions like every person being present at Christmas dinner when that may not be feasible, need to be looked at in the light of love and common sense. Christmas dinners may need to be done rotationally. Traditions may need to grow and change as the years go by.
That doesn’t mean that our Christmas excitement and celebrations of our one true King shouldn’t take place or be enjoyed. They just may look different from year to year, and that’s all right. The true meaning of Christmas is that Jesus is the Light of the World and our Saviour. I wish you all a blessed Christmas!
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In 1975, I accepted Jesus Christ’s work on the cross for my salvation, and a few months later, my parents sold my childhood home. We moved into a new community for people over 55. Because of my parents’ ages, they allowed me in. The promise of the clubhouse pool helped sell me on the idea and get excited.
The day we unpacked the moving truck, a friendly neighbor approached from across the street, and introduced us to another neighbor, Bea. She had a son my age. As we stood in our driveway, Bea told us there were four teens now, and she was happy to meet me. She invited me to her church, the youth group, and was the first Christian woman I met. Bea discipled me before I’d heard what it was. She also has the gifts of mercy and evangelism. It’s always Christmas in her heart.
Bea is 100 years old now, and my “second Mom.” She and her family adopted me by welcoming me as a sister. Her two youngest sons were my close friends. One had the travel bug and urged me to come over to Israel and work on the kibbutz for the summer where he lived, then work for the winter in Germany. I did.
It was 1981, and I fulfilled my dream of overseas travel after listening to his stories of working seasonal jobs and traveling for several years. The thought of going to Bible story locations burned within my soul. Experience where Jesus lived and see where He died? Yes. Not only enjoy gorgeous posters of castles on my walls, but to go inside them? I must.
I purchased a one-way ticket to Israel, worked on the kibbutz for the summer, traveled, then flew to Germany to work for the winter. Visiting 14 countries gave me the experiences I wrote about in my short stories, and how God gave me the unexpected encounters with Him as I traveled.
I’d never been so far away from home until that 1981 Christmas and never dreamed of celebrating it in the magnificent setting of the German Alps. It remains my most fantastic memory of Christmas, and I wrote a short story about it for Grace Publishing’s Celebrating Christmas anthology. My hope is it will resonate with your heart.
My Bavarian Christmas story is a gift to you when you sign up for my newsletter. Merry Christmas to all!
