Unlikely, Indeed!

Christmas Eve has always been a special night. New outfits, carols by candlelight, anticipation for the morn. This year, however, challenged our ability to revel in all the joys Christmas brings. Papa wasn't home.

Christmas Eve came, and we all hustled and bustled amidst concern for Dad. Our church service was at 4pm, and it was going to take a Christmas Miracle to get the Barclay5 there in time. David and I toyed with the idea of not going at all. But he suggested we get ready and surprise Papa, bringing Christmas Eve Service to him, bedside at the hospital.

With renewed excitement, everyone cooperated, dressed and loaded into the car. We discussed our plan: the kids would go in the room first, we'd sing several Christmas carols and hymns (I have a book, thankfully), read the account from Luke, and close with Silent Night.

In my minds eye I knew my Dad would be thrilled. But I never anticipated the beauty that would transform a stark-white, lonely room into a Cathedral of sweet praise. We sang with such joy, my dad wept like I have never seen before. It was joy, and gratitude, and humbleness, and a holy peace all mixed together and flowing without restraint. What a gift for us all. Christmas came in an unlikely place.

We gathered ourselves, wiped tears, hugged, kissed and went on our merry way to dinner awaiting at Mimi's. I was quite shocked to realize as we opened the non-sound-proof door that an audience had gathered - Christmas had come for them, too, through unlikely (and somewhat out-of-tune) voices.

But isn't that just how Christmas is. Christ, God's son, came to us in human form in the most unlikely of places - a lowly manger. Christmas came, and still comes, no matter where we find ourselves. Sometimes, we just have to look!

Papa came home this evening! Our post-Christmas gift - and my number 152.