Blue Christmas

It’s very late…actually, it’s very early on Christmas morn, 1:39am to be exact. I am sitting on the couch watching the country music channel and Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas” just finished playing. Sitting beside me on the table is a very blue stuffed Eeyore. I just had to move him because I couldn’t type without him getting in the way. It’s funny how “blue” can get in the way. It’s Christmas, but even at this most celebratory season, “blue” can just get in the way.

If you are a country music fan you might know Nan Kelly, a TV host recovering from Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. You might know someone closer to home where blue is getting in the way. Someone who is away from loved ones this Christmas. Someone who is suffering loss this season. Someone who is celebrating baby Jesus for the last time. Someone who will wake up to a quiet house on Christmas morning. I bet “blue” can get in the way of those scenario’s?

What about you? How is your Christmas? Is “blue” getting in the way? What do you do to move the “blue”? The “blue” I am speaking of is not a child’s stuffed animal you can pick up and just put somewhere else. Although, we try to just pick up “blue” and put it somewhere else, don’t we?

…when we pick up “blue” and put alcohol in its place.
…when we pick up “blue” and replace it with www. "something not so nice"
…when we pick up “blue” and exchange it for sweet, salty or sour.
…when we pick up “blue” and wrap it with a bow and give it curls.
…when we pick up “blue” and give it a name like religion.
…when we pick up “blue” and call it a “romance” novel.
…when we pick up “blue” and then pack it in the designer luggage.
…when we pick up “blue” and give it a makeover using anything green.
…when we pick up “blue” and call it anything but…

Again I will ask? What do you do with “blue”?
No-one wants a Blue Christmas.
We are all dreaming of a White Christmas!

The only thing I know to do with “blue” is to wash it whiter than snow with the crimson red color that comes from none other than the One and Only Master Craftsman, JESUS. He invented “Extreme Makeover.” And you can have one today.
No need to call Ty or wait for the cue, “Move that bus!”

He is there, ready and waiting. He is at the door knocking.
He has the demolition crew ready to knock down and destroy whatever it takes. He has contractors lined up to bring in quality material to re- build on a Rock solid foundation. He already paid your debtors, no notes or liens on this property. He even has a maintenance plan to keep everything running smoothly day to day.

It all starts with accepting the “red” that was spilled on the cross to change the “blue” to “white.”
No matter the strategy you have used to get rid of “blue”, if it doesn’t have the God + Jesus + Holy Spirit = Peace that passes all understanding Formula the “blue” will seep back in. No amount of alcohol, food, beauty, busyness, or covering up will ever get rid of “blue.”

You don’t have to live in New England to have a White Christmas.
You will find your White Christmas laying in a feeding trough in Bethlehem.

Embrace the Babe and you can say goodbye to the ever dreaded
“Blue” Christmas!

Charlie's Angel

Jeb, my only boy, was born 3 weeks early, no surprise to me. (He is the first born! They tend to be overachievers! ) He is handsome and smart. So smart. He blows me away sometimes. When he was 1, and I promise I am not joking, at age 1...he could do a form board puzzle in 30 seconds. His visual perceptual skills are amazing. I have so many memories of my "Rumby Bumby." When he was 8 months or so he loved for me to sing "You Are My Sunshine." He would grin ear to ear.



He was never a good sleeper. And for a first time Mommy, that doesn't help your ego.



I have a very fond memory when he was 3 years old of the sleep dilemma. It was right after Christmas and I was up making cupcakes to take to the hospital. I had a student, Charlie, in the hospital who was in a coma. Over Christmas break, he had a seizure and slipped into a coma and hadn't gained consciousness. I adored Charlie and right before the break I walked into my therapy room to discover a chocolate cream pie with a card that read "Merry Christmas. I love you Ms Beverley. Love, Charlie." In our daily conversations this tiny, wheel chair bound 12 year old with cerebral palsy had picked up on the fact that I loved Denny's chocolate cream pies. So, on my desk, set a Denny's pie he had talked his mom into bringing to me.



Now, back to my other little boy I adore, Jeb, my son. He would not stay in bed. I needed him to go to bed. I had to make these cupcakes. It wasn't going to happen, though. Okay, how do I get the cupcakes made with my 3 year old awake at 11:00pm? Give him something to do! He can mix the food coloring in the frosting! That's it. Here you go, Jeb. Bowl, frosting, spoon, food coloring. Take it away!



He stayed busy, made a mess, but stirred the food coloring and frosting like a true gourmet chef. The color was a little different. I can't even describe it, maybe, a teal, turquoise color would give you an idea. I had no choice, they had to be frosted, this unusual color would have to do. I needed to go to sleep.



We tackled the cupcakes and we won. 20 or so minutes later I had them loaded in a handed down corning ware dish. I searched and found the lid but something else was needed. I scanned the room. In the corner was a pile of boxes that still needed to be put away from Christmas. In the top of the box was a small rag doll type angel. Perfect. I can attach it to the lid. If the family ever needed hope from above, now would be the time, and an angel. Perfect.



Now, to put on the angel? Wait. You will never believe this. Maybe you will. The angel's dress was the EXACT color of the frosting! As I am writing this and remembering all the little details, it still makes me cry. How incredible is a God that would orchestrate such a thing?!



I took the cupcakes to the family the next day. I visited with them and saw Charlie. He was still in a coma. I kissed him and hugged him and begged him to wake up. He didn't listen, though. He went home to be with Jesus that night. His mom buried Charlie holding that angel.



I am so glad that I chose to let my son help me that night. As a mom with 5 kids and 14 years of parenting under my belt, I can't say I have always made good choices. I did that night, though, and the Lord blessed me, Jeb, Charlie and his family.



I pray that I will never lose that memory. It's a good one. It remids me of that Bible verse in Genesis, at the ending of Joseph's story. The one where God works it all out for good, what Satan means for bad.



I loved Charlie's Angels as a child of the 70's, I wanted Farah Fawcett hair, too! But when I hear Charlie and angel, it reminds me of the story I just told and it does my heart good. I hope you will remember this story about a boy named Charlie and an angel, with a smile. You might even shed a tear and say a prayer.