Christmas

It’s Christmas again. The shops are bright with tinsel and song. And in the background as I write, Chris Tomlin is singing Christmas carols.

For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a Christian, so Christmas is a special time of year for me.

I realise we probably got the date wrong but . . . I know what it is all about for me and my family: we are celebrating the birth of Jesus. (My sister’s birthday is actually 25^th December, but we’ve taken to celebrating it on 17^th October so she can have a day when her family and friends have time to bless her. It is no less special for not being the actual date she was born.)

As I grow older (okay, I’m not OLD yet), each year I become increasingly moved by the wonder of Jesus’ birth and all it meant. The enormity of His becoming a baby, born in such humble circumstances. The love God the Father showed in sending Him.

Do the glitter and noise in the shops grate on me? Most of the time, not at all. It is, after all, a time of celebration. Celebrations tend to be noisy, glitzy and full of excitement. I enjoy the family getting together at Christmas too. The sheer delight of the children as they open their presents.  As it is a time when God showed his love in such an extravagant way, that love spreads out to family and friends.

This year – with the exception of our family in Seattle – we will all go out to our family (Ben and Em and their three gorgeous little boys) who’ve bought a very old heritage listed Queenslander on a few acres of rough bushland in Pullenvale. It’s a new venture for them and it will be our first Christmas there. Should be great!

My childhood Christmas memories (we grew up in an old Queenslander at Corinda) are of decorating the enormous camelia bush in the garden with bright baubles, tinsel, and a big star. We’d put out trestle tables under the huge magnolia tree, and sit out there in the welcome cool shade – our  immediate family, aunt and uncle, cousins and the two grandmothers all crowding around eagerly.

The tables were laden with goodies – the most important being the chicken. In those days, chickens were a special-occasion food. The dessert was inevitably plum pudding with ice cream and the lucky one found a threepence (the theoretical equivalent of three pennies) or a sixpence (twice as much and equal to a five cent piece) in his/her pudding. (Strange how it was mainly the kids who found the coins!) The other ‘lucky one’ received the wishbone (surprise!) in his/her chicken. We ate about three times as much as our normal post-war diet allowed, and after the final course of huge wedges of watermelon, we kids lay on the grassy bank at the side of the house and groaned in pretend agony, genuine discomfort. Which only completed our enjoyment.

I hope all of you reading this have a happy and blessed Christmas!

P.S. It’s not too late to put up a comment and be in the draw for a free book. I’ll see who the winner is on Saturday. I’ve included your name even if you only commented on facebook as I realize some of you are perhaps daunted by the ‘comment system’.

P.P.S. The next post will probably be at the beginning of 2014 as I’ll have too many other things to do during the Christmas-New year week.