It's Christmas Morning

It's the middle of the night before Christmas. I'm up. I'll get my chili started and probably my jello salad also, maybe make some bread. Pick up and do some of this and that before I try to go back to sleep.

I spent Christmas Eve with the Darringtons, eating their chili, singing carols--many more than Charlie was prepared to appreciate. His exasperation found expression. "Please stop," or "I don't like that song you're making up." I had said earlier that there were hundreds of Christmas carols a person could sing. He might have been afraid I intended to sing them all, and I'm sure he was anxious to get to the next part of the evening's activities: get into the car and go looking for houses with lots of lights. It was all fun.

It's a little bit lonely here. Of course. It's the middle of the night, for crying out loud. If I were sleeping, I maybe wouldn't know the loneliness. I've put on some music to keep me company. It's the Carpenters singing their Christmas greeting. Karen Carpenter is hanging "a shining star upon the highest bough" just now. She is someone I miss, and I know I'm not the only one.

Now she sings of the Christ child. As we read in Luke last night, and as I looked at Ann, I tried to imagine that very uncomfortable night for Mary long ago in Bethlehem. She gave birth to her son in a place I'm sure she did not plan for. I am thankful for her strength and thankful Ann will have more pleasant circumstances.

Well, Karen Carpenter is singing "Merry Christmas, darling . . . I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve. I wish I were with you." Ann has said it. Christmas is a time for us to be light of heart. Also a time of intense longing. I think we all know both of those emotions each year.

I think of Christmas in Millersville, PA, and Saskatoon, SK, and Henderson, NV, and Merced, CA (that's where Wayne and Kimberli have traveled to with their boys), and hope there is joy and a bit of peace in those celebrations. I'd really like to be in all of those places. I'm also very glad I'll be here tomorrow.

By the way, our Christmas in Boise is somewhat white. That's nice, huh.

I'll get busy in the kitchen now. But first I'll wish every-one-and-all-of you Merry Christmas and send my love with the wishes.

P.S. Chili is for lunch because my kids and their kids are coming at 11 AM and maybe they'll want some of it--if they didn't all have it for Christmas Eve dinner. Ham is for today's Christmas dinner. Ann and Jeremy and Charlie and John will be here for that, in case you care about that kind of stuff.