A Christmas Tale

Christmas trees make the very best mobiles

We are a pastoring family, and five years ago we were getting ready for our first Christmas with our new congregation, in our new house, and with our new baby. Indeed, it had been an exciting year! Now I'm not much for decorating for holidays, because I already have plenty that I'm not great at keeping up with, and why add to that list? But man, I do love to decorate for Christmas. This house was a fresh canvas, and we'd added another stocking to boot. I went to town, and we gloried in the coziness of twinkle lights and Christmas music and scads of cookies.

The stockings were hung by the bookcase with care

in hopes that the book fairy soon would be there

One weekend, smack dab in the middle of that warm and very rainy December, my aunt, my cousin, and my cousin's kids all came down to visit. All together we had seven babies under five years old, and you bet your britches it was a fantastic time! ...Until my family, who were sleeping in our "guest suite," woke up on Sunday morning, got out of bed, and stepped into inches of foul-smelling, standing water. Oh, no.

We got everyone and all their stuff out of the basement as quickly as possible, got it sorted as best we could, and made our way to church together, because that's what we do. After church my visiting family headed for home. We let our church council know what was going on, and council went into investigative mode. Looking back, that day was a whirl of assessing where exactly the water was coming from, what of our things were damaged, what could be saved, what would happen next, and the unbearable stench which had permeated the house.. The thing I remember clearly was my desperate hope that whatever the problem was, it could be figured out and fixed fairly quickly, and our desperate need to get out of there. But where would we go? 

I sent a text to a new friend, and asked if her family of six would mind putting up our family of six for an indefinite amount of time. Pretty bold, eh? But desperate times call for desperate measures. She responded soon afterward with "of course we wouldn't mind!" Oh, praise Jesus! We packed everyone up and drove a few miles into the country where our friends welcomed us with open hearts and arms. 

It. was. a. party.
A party of twelve, to be exact, which I affectionately referred to as a party of twelve-thousand. When our congregation and friends learned where we were staying, they brought meals to feed our troops, and our troops had a wonderful time together. There's nothing better for getting to know near-strangers than being tossed like a salad with them into an emergency situation. It was slightly surreal, and slightly cramped, but very, very good. To rest in the care and generosity of another can feel difficult and awkward, can't it? But it's a worthwhile practice that can bless everyone involved, and works to unleash our gratefulness and generosity. It's one of the most obvious places where love shows up.

With our friends in the country: 

our combined 8,000 children, all crammed onto one couch!

In the meantime, other helpers were clearing our basement of our possessions, and our local plumber got right to work locating the problem. It was a doozy. The house's 65ish year-old cast iron pipes were disintegrating, and a tree root had grown through the main. Our system just gave up under the extreme amounts of water that December had brought us. This was absolutely not going to be a quick fix... in fact, it was going to take weeks of work. 

I was heartbroken. Our first Christmas in our new house was going to be put off a year. I wouldn't get to enjoy our decorations. Everything was a mess– our house, our stuff, our insurance. Not gonna lie, I felt robbed. 

On our fourth evening in our friends' residence (and during a Christmas party, in fact), someone got ahold of my husband, Ben, and told him they had an old farmhouse– fully furnished, uninhabited, just about two miles from where we were presently– and that we could stay there as long as we needed to. 

WOW. Okay then. 

Now, if you're like me, you're wondering just who the heck has an old, furnished farmhouse lying around? How does that even happen? Well, it turns out that the farming couple who owned the house had left it to their adult children when they died, and though their kids lived in another part of the state, they still used it when they came back to farm. 

This was the best possible scenario. Because we were able to leave our house right away, the crew was able to get to work right away. Having this farmhouse as a place to land was incredibly convenient, because our plan was to head up north on Christmas Day to take a two week break with our families. The outlook was good that the crew would be finished with the basement by the time we got back.  

Every aspect of what was happening was downright amazing, and goodness and favor were just oozing all over the place (well, except in the insurance department. *blows frustrated raspberry*), but my heart was still heavy. Mmhmm. Full disclosure– I tend to do poorly when sideswiped by reality, and I wanted to glory in Christmas coziness, gosh darn it! Sigh.

Gorgeous farmhouse built-in.

Hindsight is clearer:

from the squalid pit He brings

a thousand good things!

We informed our friends of this new development, and that we would be getting ready to leave. This moment sprung on us suddenly, and left us all a little sad about parting.

It was late now. We piled our sleepy babies and selves into our van, and headed up the dark, gravel road. As Ben turned into the drive, I recognized this lovely, white farmhouse as one I'd noticed not long before. I had actually wondered what it looked like inside, no kidding.

We stood at the door and fumbled to get in– weary parents and discombobulated toddlers and tiny babies and luggage– and when I was able to take in my surroundings, I first noticed a Christmas tree, with colored lights twinkling at me. We curiously and cautiously made our way through the whole, beautiful house– there was a Christmas tree and a nativity in almost every room. Every. stinkin’. room. 

I was flabbergasted. I was not forgotten. I was loved.

Our little family stayed in the felicitous old farmhouse right through Christmas, and then headed out on our vacation. The crew working on our house did get it completely finished by the time we came back. We made our way into our own tidy, stench-free, newly-improved, still-decorated-for-Christmas home to find one more surprise: our supper waiting for us. And it was still hot.