Reason #351
I know Christmas is over, but I have a story I wanted to share from last Christmas. I was going to blog about it last week, however, last week was full of excitment that was more blog appropriate at the time. It's amazing how last week seemed like a few weeks crammed into one. A full week hasn't even passed since Christmas, but I feel like we should be well into January by now. Really, that seems to have been the trend for 2012.
Last year, my family went to the candlelight service at my parents' church on Christmas Eve. Of course this is one of my absolute favorite traditions. In fact, there has only been 1 year of my life that I haven't attended a candelight service and it was due to bad weather. There's just something about the service that really seems to solidify Christmas for me. It kind of puts the whole holiday into perspective. My favorite part of the service is the end when candelight begins to fill the dark auditorium and we sing Silent Night. It gives me chills everytime.
Last year was my first year to not attend the candelight service at my home church in Levelland. I was quite thankful for that to be honest. It was a bittersweet thing. I really wanted to be there but I didn't at the same time. I was glad my parents' church also had a candlelight service so that we could still keep the tradition. It's funny how the brain remembers certain details. I seem to always remember outfits that I wear for particular occasions. Not only do I remember what I wore, but I usually remember what other people wore, too. Odd, I know. I remember that I wore a long, gray sweater with my black leggings. At the time, leggings were the only thing I could keep up. And so the end of the service rolled around and candelight slowly began to fill the dark sanctuary. I got about 2 words into Silent Night and I had to stop singing. Tears began pouring down my face and I tried my best to weep as quietly as possible so that I didn't draw any attention to myself. I didn't want anyone to hear or see the tears because I didn't want to put a damper on Christmas. I was going to, by gosh, make the most of Christmas and tears certainly were not going to aid in that effort. But I couldn't help it, no matter how hard I tried. And as I sat there crying, totally unable to sing along, I felt a warm hand reach over and hold mine. Now, my dad is normally not one for affection. We always hug hello and goodbye, but he's never been the touchy-feely type (Scout is his only exception). But my dad noticed those tears. He knew exactly why they were streaming down my face and so he did the only thing he knew to do. My dad is a fixer. He can seriously fix anything, but he knew that was something that was out of his control. There was no quick fix for those tears. But in one sweet gesture, he reminded me that I wasn't alone. Through that simple touch, I was reminded of how much he loved me. He let me know that he was there for me, and he wasn't going anywhere. And it was just so encouraging to have him right beside me. I knew there wasn't anything else he could do. He had tried his hardest, too. But just knowing he was there made it a little better. And so I dried my tears and we went home to continue celebrating the birth of our Savior.
And I think about how our Heavenly Father does the same thing for us, too. That's why He came. To be with us. Because He knew there would be plenty of occassions where we'd find ourselves sitting in darkness wondering where it all went wrong. And although He is a God who can and will fix anything, sometimes it's not a quick fix. And sometimes, the fixing must done differently than requested. And so I know it breaks His heart to watch His children weep. I know He hates the sorrow just as much as we do, but He's right there with us. Everytime, He is there to comfort us with His presence. And maybe that's just what we need. Maybe we just need a moment to cry as He holds us close, reminding us that He loves us. Because Jesus wept, too. Jesus knew what sadness felt like, so He came to comfort us. To sit with us, to hold us, and to support us. And what a joy it is to be comforted by your Father. To realize that you're never enduring anything alone. He's right there to encourage and uphold you through all of life's twists and turns. And soon, those tears will be turned into joy. Soon, He will fix it. But until then, bask in His presence. Grab on to that nail-scarred hand, and take comfort that He's not going anyhwere, no He's going to stay right beside you.
#351 - Because He comforts us with His presence.
"God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted." - Matthew 5:4
Last year, my family went to the candlelight service at my parents' church on Christmas Eve. Of course this is one of my absolute favorite traditions. In fact, there has only been 1 year of my life that I haven't attended a candelight service and it was due to bad weather. There's just something about the service that really seems to solidify Christmas for me. It kind of puts the whole holiday into perspective. My favorite part of the service is the end when candelight begins to fill the dark auditorium and we sing Silent Night. It gives me chills everytime.
Last year was my first year to not attend the candelight service at my home church in Levelland. I was quite thankful for that to be honest. It was a bittersweet thing. I really wanted to be there but I didn't at the same time. I was glad my parents' church also had a candlelight service so that we could still keep the tradition. It's funny how the brain remembers certain details. I seem to always remember outfits that I wear for particular occasions. Not only do I remember what I wore, but I usually remember what other people wore, too. Odd, I know. I remember that I wore a long, gray sweater with my black leggings. At the time, leggings were the only thing I could keep up. And so the end of the service rolled around and candelight slowly began to fill the dark sanctuary. I got about 2 words into Silent Night and I had to stop singing. Tears began pouring down my face and I tried my best to weep as quietly as possible so that I didn't draw any attention to myself. I didn't want anyone to hear or see the tears because I didn't want to put a damper on Christmas. I was going to, by gosh, make the most of Christmas and tears certainly were not going to aid in that effort. But I couldn't help it, no matter how hard I tried. And as I sat there crying, totally unable to sing along, I felt a warm hand reach over and hold mine. Now, my dad is normally not one for affection. We always hug hello and goodbye, but he's never been the touchy-feely type (Scout is his only exception). But my dad noticed those tears. He knew exactly why they were streaming down my face and so he did the only thing he knew to do. My dad is a fixer. He can seriously fix anything, but he knew that was something that was out of his control. There was no quick fix for those tears. But in one sweet gesture, he reminded me that I wasn't alone. Through that simple touch, I was reminded of how much he loved me. He let me know that he was there for me, and he wasn't going anywhere. And it was just so encouraging to have him right beside me. I knew there wasn't anything else he could do. He had tried his hardest, too. But just knowing he was there made it a little better. And so I dried my tears and we went home to continue celebrating the birth of our Savior.
And I think about how our Heavenly Father does the same thing for us, too. That's why He came. To be with us. Because He knew there would be plenty of occassions where we'd find ourselves sitting in darkness wondering where it all went wrong. And although He is a God who can and will fix anything, sometimes it's not a quick fix. And sometimes, the fixing must done differently than requested. And so I know it breaks His heart to watch His children weep. I know He hates the sorrow just as much as we do, but He's right there with us. Everytime, He is there to comfort us with His presence. And maybe that's just what we need. Maybe we just need a moment to cry as He holds us close, reminding us that He loves us. Because Jesus wept, too. Jesus knew what sadness felt like, so He came to comfort us. To sit with us, to hold us, and to support us. And what a joy it is to be comforted by your Father. To realize that you're never enduring anything alone. He's right there to encourage and uphold you through all of life's twists and turns. And soon, those tears will be turned into joy. Soon, He will fix it. But until then, bask in His presence. Grab on to that nail-scarred hand, and take comfort that He's not going anyhwere, no He's going to stay right beside you.
#351 - Because He comforts us with His presence.
"God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted." - Matthew 5:4