Yep, Christmas here at the Adamows! And as I was listening to the classic Christmas station on the radio, I was struck by the fact that I don't really agree with Bing Crosby. I don't want a white Christmas. If it were a White Christmas here, our pipes would freeze. No pipes are buried around here, so it would cause quite a kerfuffle.
If it were a White Christmas here, we would not be able to heat our warm-weather style house with a couple blower-heaters. Our flat has marble floors, high ceilings, is northeast facing, and none of the windows or doors have weather-stripping. We'd be seeing our breath all day long.
If it were a White Christmas here, our neighbors would freeze. Many people here have a less weather-proof house than we do. Lots of the 'houses' only hold loosely to that word. Winter weather would blow right in through open windows and doors, cracks in the bamboo, rust in the tin, and holes in the tarps. Our neighbors wouldn't survive under their thin blankets.
If it were a White Christmas, we would have been hard-pressed to keep out the commercialism that is so prevalent around the season and has become almost a cliche in our birthplaces. Our children would have learned a lot more about Santa than Jesus. They would have been constantly reminded to write a Christmas list. Here, they really didn't mention Santa all day. But, we did get to light our advent wreath, sing some Christmas hymns, and read the story together.
If it were a White Christmas, we wouldn't have the chance to live here, to meet the people we've met, to make some amazing friends who are becoming family. We would know a lot less about this crazy, big, amazing world God made and Jesus came to save.
I'm reminding myself of all these things today as I'm missing so much about what Christmas used to be and mean. Especially, I'm missing my family and the traditions that run so deep. We even tried to recreate some traditions here and skype our families to keep them close. But, sometimes the power goes out 3 times in the middle of baking the traditional Christmas morning cinnamon rolls. Or, the internet is spotty and only allows for a couple frustrating minutes of jerky conversation before it drops our skype call. Or, the power goes out yet again as I try to bake the Christmas dinner, so it turns out warm instead of hot. Then, I start wishing for that White Christmas all over again.
But, after all this, I remember that I just saw a little Indian boy riding on the front of his Dad's bicycle wearing a Santa suit. They skirted around a cow in the nick of time. I remember that our Charlie Brown Christmas Tree makes my boys so happy that they have to mention it to anyone who will listen. I remember that my boys decided that our neighbors needed some presents for Christmas, too, so they went through their own toys to share some with our friends -- who would be some of the ones freezing if it gets much colder.
And then, I remember that baby in a stable who was away from His home on Christmas morning . . . his parents had to make him a bed in a barn. And He was much further away than just Nazareth to Bethlehem. He came a lot farther than I have. He wanted us to be able to see God more clearly. So, if I can love people here in this next year, isn't that really what Christmas was for in the first place?
May God's love and His greatest gift permeate your lives this Christmas. He came and lived in the mess and craziness -- not hiding from it -- and fixing some of it along the way. May we follow His example. Peace on earth and good will to those on whom His favor rests. Much Love to all of you!
Here are the boys and their friends decorating gingerbread houses!
If it were a White Christmas here, we would not be able to heat our warm-weather style house with a couple blower-heaters. Our flat has marble floors, high ceilings, is northeast facing, and none of the windows or doors have weather-stripping. We'd be seeing our breath all day long.
If it were a White Christmas here, our neighbors would freeze. Many people here have a less weather-proof house than we do. Lots of the 'houses' only hold loosely to that word. Winter weather would blow right in through open windows and doors, cracks in the bamboo, rust in the tin, and holes in the tarps. Our neighbors wouldn't survive under their thin blankets.
If it were a White Christmas, we would have been hard-pressed to keep out the commercialism that is so prevalent around the season and has become almost a cliche in our birthplaces. Our children would have learned a lot more about Santa than Jesus. They would have been constantly reminded to write a Christmas list. Here, they really didn't mention Santa all day. But, we did get to light our advent wreath, sing some Christmas hymns, and read the story together.
If it were a White Christmas, we wouldn't have the chance to live here, to meet the people we've met, to make some amazing friends who are becoming family. We would know a lot less about this crazy, big, amazing world God made and Jesus came to save.
I'm reminding myself of all these things today as I'm missing so much about what Christmas used to be and mean. Especially, I'm missing my family and the traditions that run so deep. We even tried to recreate some traditions here and skype our families to keep them close. But, sometimes the power goes out 3 times in the middle of baking the traditional Christmas morning cinnamon rolls. Or, the internet is spotty and only allows for a couple frustrating minutes of jerky conversation before it drops our skype call. Or, the power goes out yet again as I try to bake the Christmas dinner, so it turns out warm instead of hot. Then, I start wishing for that White Christmas all over again.
But, after all this, I remember that I just saw a little Indian boy riding on the front of his Dad's bicycle wearing a Santa suit. They skirted around a cow in the nick of time. I remember that our Charlie Brown Christmas Tree makes my boys so happy that they have to mention it to anyone who will listen. I remember that my boys decided that our neighbors needed some presents for Christmas, too, so they went through their own toys to share some with our friends -- who would be some of the ones freezing if it gets much colder.
And then, I remember that baby in a stable who was away from His home on Christmas morning . . . his parents had to make him a bed in a barn. And He was much further away than just Nazareth to Bethlehem. He came a lot farther than I have. He wanted us to be able to see God more clearly. So, if I can love people here in this next year, isn't that really what Christmas was for in the first place?
May God's love and His greatest gift permeate your lives this Christmas. He came and lived in the mess and craziness -- not hiding from it -- and fixing some of it along the way. May we follow His example. Peace on earth and good will to those on whom His favor rests. Much Love to all of you!
Here are the boys and their friends decorating gingerbread houses!
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