All the anticipation – all the joyful music of the season – the reunions, the special laughter, the gatherings – suddenly came to an abrupt halt.  On this silent, holy night, as I looked out the expanse of wide windows into a fog covered night, a glorious moment occurred. There was no fanfare, no angel choirs, complete aloneness and not a sound.

Through the corridors of time, my mind swiftly covered seventy seven years of Christmas.  I remembered the yearly church services, with memorized Bible passages and the sound of beautiful hymns filling the sanctuary.  This was part of my Christmas for as long as I can remember.  It always began in church where the story of the Son of God has been told and retold through the ages.

There were the Christmases of plenty and those where there was very little to give, but the focal point of that special night never changed.  Jesus would be placed in a feeding trough for animals, after being wrapped tightly in strips of cloth.  This was not a bed fit for a King.  It wasn’t fit for any human habitation.  The humility of that very act shows us what the cost was for Christ to leave His home in heaven to take on our sins.

My mind quickly fast forwarded to this Christmas.  For weeks we had been anxiously awaiting our family from S. Carolina.  Our Minnesota kids helped to ready our home for the holiday.  Our usual Christmas Eve would be spent in church with all our clan and then off to our youngest daughter’s home for a fine dinner and celebration of being together.  Instead, I was in a hospital room, looking out at the blanket of dense fog, cuddling every thing in sight.  I felt very small, yet part of something extremely big.

Even in the aloneness of that moment, I felt my heart leap for joy, because I knew God was with me and the treasure of His Son, laying on a mound of hay was enough to fill the empty spaces.  None of us should ever feel alone, even in our darkest times. The promises of God’s presence in our hearts has seen to that. He has made a place there for the Christ Child to live.

It was midnight when I looked out the window.  I contemplated the first Christmas and thought of the beauty of that silent, holy night. Time stood still for a moment and a feeling of peace rushed over me.  The story never changes.  It always ends the same way and yet each time I hear it, something new lands in my brain.  God is like that, you know.




About atimetoshare.me

As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on Amazon.com.
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  1. Continuing to pray for a speedy recovery.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Mama Duck says:

    How wonderful that you were able to feel His presence and not feel alone. Hope you are much better🙏🏻.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I’m glad you’re now home mending!!!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Praying you are well ❤ God bless you

    Liked by 1 person

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