Christmas Reflections

Topol sings about "Traditions" while fighting a losing battle to keep them in "Fiddler on the Roof." My cousin Rebecca insists on keeping the menu the same every Thanksgiving, even the Stove Top Stuffing, because it's “tradition.” I found myself thinking a lot about traditions this past Christmas season,, and crying out for traditions to remain the same. I spent Christmas Eve baking, cleaning and pondering. In the morning I had read a Christmas message from some missionary friends, newly arrived on the field in Honduras. They are going through the initial phase of culture stress; feeling lost, inadequate, frustrated, and exhausted by the daily toll of it all. Moving from the Pacific Northwest to Central America is quite the change. Amongst all this change, is a remarkable gift and opportunity at this time of year. Christmas will not be the same, no fir trees to decorate (at least not real ones), no need for wool sweaters – t-shirt and shorts are fine, no push of consumerism in the same masterful way America does Christmas, a new house that isn't familiar enough just yet to be called home – Christmas was inevitably going to be different for this family. While it could be disappointing and emphasize all that this family has given up to serve in Honduras, it is also a gift. With all the traditions of Christmas for this family stripped away, or at least seriously mixed up, they have the chance to refocus on the real meaning and event of Christmas. The entrapments that divide our attention and dilute the holiness of this day have been minimized (not eliminated). Instead of a normal Christmas they have been given a time to reflect on what Christmas really means, and how they want to celebrate, what traditions to keep that have meaning, and an opportunity to create new traditions. That is a gift, a unique and wonderful opportunity. I am a little bit envious.

Like Topol, I felt like I was fighting a losing battle to keep traditions alive this year. I sounded like my cousin, lobbying to keep traditions. It was the first year that we purposely were not spending Christmas with the extended family. David and Kayle were spending the day with her family, Gary and Sue were going to Bend to spend the holiday with Rebecca, Rob and the kids. We chose to stay in town as Chris was flying in on Christmas Eve, and his girlfriend the afternoon of Christmas. Instead of the usual family gathering, we invited three other families to join us for Christmas dinner. For every other holiday that involves special meals, I've been an advocate for inviting lots of people. Christmas has not been one of them, it's time for family. But I was excited for this year. I didn't want it to be just the five of us and the Carlocks are like family and I wish I was part of the über-fun Childress family. With all the changes to Christmas this year, and despite my mother's best efforts to dissuade me, I insisted on keeping the tradition of aebelskiver for dinner on Christmas eve. In order to perpetuate the tradition one more year, I had to host dinner, which was fine by me. We went to the Christmas eve service afterwards at my parent's church, which was fine, but not satisfying. I stayed up late to keep my own tradition of watching midnight mass at St. Paul's Cathedral at the Vatican. Christmas morning I went over to my parents to join the rest of the family, exhausted and not feeling top notch. Chris sat in the red wingback chair watching me through the window struggling with a box filled with my gifts for the family. Apparently the lack of shoes, and the NBA, prevented him from helping me. We still do stockings, and this year we unpacked all the goodies, while watching a game. I don't even know what game, there were actually several that he would flip back and forth between. It was disappointing. This is CHRISTMAS! Can't we turn off the TV today, of all days? We moved to the living room to open presents, the only way to get Chris' attention off of NBA and with the present company. But the living room wasn't even cleaned up before he was parked in the red chair again, watching a game. I was mad. After doing all I could to help mom out before dinner started, I went for a walk. A time to walk out some frustration, enjoy the sun, see the blue sky, have the wind in my face, reflect, and hopefully wake up a little.

The friends started arriving around 3 pm. We had a pleasant dinner. I still am sitting at the “kids” table, even at age 36. The funny thing is, that I had one idea about how the day would go, and didn't consider that those who would be joining us for our un-traditional Christmas dinner, were also changing their traditions; and may have traditions that they didn't want to change. Such as going out after dinner. Shortly after dinner, Courtney, Joy and Luke left to go to the Blazer game. (Ack! What is up with basketball and Christmas??!!) Connor and Spencer decided to go down to the Childress' home to sleep or play video games. Which left me, with Jillian, a junior in high school, along with the older “parents.” Not what I had anticipated. Not how I had wanted to spend Christmas. It didn't feel like Christmas. It was pleasant enough, but subdued. It was just an odd year. Nothing much was the same, and without the familiar it didn't seem like Christmas. And I realized that even when you are still in the same physical place, Christmas can be all jumbled up and different, it doesn't take moving to a different country. And maybe the Wigg's are not the only ones given a gift to re-examine the meaning of Christmas. But if it is going to be different (I'm anticipating more changes next year), why not move? Maybe next year I'll celebrate Christmas in Honduras too!

The day after Christmas I logged on to Facebook and looked through all the pictures of Christmas, Honduran style. I wasn't envious any longer. I was out right jealous. 50+ people for dinner at the Micah Project house, now that's a celebration!

While I missed doing one of my own traditions, reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Christmas and Advent sermons, I did keep another tradition of mine, to buy a new Christmas CD every season. This year I bought three. The last one was from a band called “Downhere” and there is one particular song that cut through all of the noise of the season and reminded me of what we are celebrating. The song is “How Many Kings,”

follow the star to a place unexpected/ Would you believe, after all we've projected,/ A child in a manager?/ Lowly and small, the weakest of all/ Unlikeliest hero, wrapped in His mother's shawl/ Just a child/ Is this who we've waited for? 'Cause...//How many kings step down from their thrones?/ How many lords have abandoned their homes?/ How many greats have become the least for me?/ And how many gods have poured out their heart/ To romance a world that is torn all apart/ How many fathers gave up their sons for me? // Bringing our gifts for the newborn Savior/ All that we have, whether costly or meek/ Because we believe/ Gold for His honor, and frankincense for His pleasure/ And myrrh for the cross He will suffer/ Now, do you believe?/ Is this who we've waited for? // All for me, all for you/ All for me, all for you//

CSAs rule the world

Jon and I are stuck sharing an office the size of a broom closet. We've cajoled, kindly requested, conscripted others into our fight and flat out begged to have our own offices or to share a larger office. No success. Carol came by and was sympathizing with our plight and tried to help with suggestions for how to rearrange the desks so that we would feel less like sardines. One idea was to put the desks facing each other in the center of the room, but she had second thoughts when she realized it may be awkward to stare at each other all day long. Jon's response, "It's a good thing we are both so extremely attractive."

I haven't laughed that hard in awhile.

Lucky 13

With a very busy weekend, week 12 concludes and lucky number thirteen starts. It's Christmas week and, almost as exciting as the holiday, I can stop wearing my back brace! Woot! Woot! I haven't needed it for most of the day and only required while in the car to strap on the monstrosity. It is so awkward and uncomfortable, especially getting in and out of the car. Although it does hold me in well and flatten out my stomach, and my back muscles could relax while strapped in, it did have it's benefits. But I'm putting those aside for the comfort and freedom of being brace-less. Progress! A real big sign of progress. Despite such a monumental marker in my recovery, I was also reminded today that I am not completely healed. A friend of the family, a freshman in college, came over today and helped me with yard work, for pay of course. All the winter clean-up hadn't been done and with the cold snap a couple weeks ago, I lost several plants and my front porch was looking sad. Now it looks bare. I was busy baking in the kitchen while Jayme worked outside. As I took a break later in the day and sat down on the couch to chat with mom I looked out the window and noticed the nasty dead hanging basket - untouched. Opps! Guess I have a little work left for me.

This week I'll see my brother. The last time was the first weekend of October, the weekend I came home from the hospital after surgery, and he had to "babysit" me while mom went out for her birthday dinner. We watched "Wall-E" and I witnessed my brother being kind, considerate and thoughtful. Remarkable day. Eleven weeks later, perhaps there will be a Christmas miracle and he will give a repeat performance.

Christmas obsession?

I fully am aware of my tendency towards obsessive-compulsive behaviour and work at curbing it. When my family notices it, they are kind and tell me I'm being "Monk-ish" - it's much easier to be compared to a lovable TV character then to be told you're being a freak. There is one area where I do not inhibit my nature and that is in collecting Christmas music. I have an obsession with Christmas music. To prove my point let me give you a few stats from my ITunes Holiday playlist.

716 songs representing

64 albums

3.23 GB of space

1.7 days of play time

Yes, that is just Christmas music. There is one caveat - I've downloaded several single free songs from Amazon, so be assured that I do not actually own 64 albums.

Also, it isn't 716 different songs. Here are the most popular:

Silent Night - 23 renditions

The Christmas Song - 16

Let it Snow - 14

Joy to the World - 13

White Christmas - 13

and most surprising to me, there are 4 different renditions of Blue Christmas - whodda thunk?

Do I have favorites? Each year, I get stuck on a new album. Last year it was Jars of Clay's "Christmas Songs" and this year, I discovered the group Straight No Chaser and am loving their "Christmas Cheers"

At least that is what it is at the moment. Today I did throw in one more CD with my order of some Christmas present for family. One day I will have to stop, but that wasn't going to be today. Should I have openly admitted all of this? Probably not. And I'm aware of that too. But I just couldn't help myself, kinda like my collecting. :)

And so starts week 12

Somewhere in the last two weeks I finally turned a corner. I started to feel "normal" while still not being quite normal, yet. The muscle spasms have mostly subsided. Every once in awhile when sneezing or while doing my exercises or stumbling into the laundry hamper in the middle of the night the back muscles decide to freak out a little, but nothing like a few weeks ago where I was reduced to tears. I'm able to wiggle and squirm, twist and bend - it's marvelous. I still can't consistently lean over the bathroom sink to wash my face (usually in the morning); and I still need to brace myself with one arm to deal with the oven or dishwasher, but I'm improving.

Last week one of my remote co-workers was in the office to train new peeps. He was giving me a hard time that I hadn't baked anything for him during his visit and generally giving me grief - there is a reason his nickname is Mr. C-P, short for Cranky Pants. But you can't hold it against him as he resembles the lovable Fozzie bear. Anyways, he starts acting silly, teasingly acting out putting something in the oven all wobbly and twisted, while commenting snidely, "What?! Can't you use the oven?" In between my laughter I mention that is pretty much exactly what I look like trying to get something in or out of the oven, and the dishwasher too. Mr. C-P then sheepishly said, "oh." But quickly chimed in with, "Get wall ovens then!" It was all very amusing, but it also proves a point - I'm looking "normal" again, but I'm not quite there yet. And that can be challenging when people expect me to be charging ahead at full steam.

After 11 weeks of recuperating, I'm taking one big leap into "normal" life - I go back to work full time. I've been working 6 hour days and last week all but one was in the office. But to go back to 8 hour days (9 including a lunch break) all at the office seems a bit daunting. My sleep schedule is still off. I go to bed to late and can't get up early. That is going to have to change. I expect I'll be wiped out when I get home in the evening. I would try to cheer myself on with "Rah! Rah! Make it to the weekend and you can rest!" But the coming weekend is busy. Friday night is the HOTEL Christmas party which I'm very much looking forward to, I haven't seen my guys since August. Saturday is my Bible study Christmas brunch - at my house. Sunday evening is my book club holiday party (yes, holiday - as several in the group are Jewish, it's a Chrismukah or Hannumas party). So much for resting after a full week. I'll be looking forward to Christmas break just so that I can sleep.

Week 12 starts with some big new goals: get to work on time, stay awake all day, get my work done. The challenge isn't only physical, but social. Even though I have been working shorter days, I've been more productive working at home. Less social interaction, less distraction, more diligence, more concentration - telecommuting works well for me. Well, tomorrow it's back to the grind...