I love Christmas traditions. The memories we have growing up being passed down as we continue to relive them, just perhaps from a different perspective as a parent. The cookie baking, driving around looking at Christmas lights in pajamas, sipping on hot chocolate while watching Christmas movies … There is something special about activities that morph into family traditions that last through multiple generations.
When I married my husband, I was introduced to one of the absolute best Christmas traditions I think any family would hope to replicate as the years pass. For as long as we have been together, and obviously many years before, his extended family would gather together on Christmas night. The location would change throughout the years, but the special people remained—aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, and grandkids all gathered together after the craziness of Christmas morning had subsided. There was always amazing food, a dessert bar, and coffee to go around. This night has always been loud and full of laughs. After eating until everyone was stuffed, and before the grandkid’s gift exchange, a special time was carved out to read Luke 2:1-20, which is simply the Christmas story. Each year a different grandchild was tapped for the honor to read the passage aloud to everyone gathered close. (I promise this was the only time where quiet could be found throughout the house!) This special privilege usually went to the child who had reached the age where they could wobbly read through the verses with a little help from their parents, which of course made it that much sweeter.
What came next, however, was the most important part. My husband’s grandmother, affectionately referred to as Bigmom, would give a little summary of the verses and why those words were still so important two thousand years later. Her speech would always include the words, “It’s a true story. It really happened!” (Sometimes stated at the beginning and end). I can’t help but smile as I hear her voice recite those sentences in my head. Year in and year out, it never changed. She loved God and her family with all she had, and she wanted nothing more than for her family to understand all that Jesus had done for them. The room was reverent as she spoke, as this was her time to share her heart, and believe me when I say, Jesus was always on Bigmom’s heart.
I remember watching this tradition, even before Brenton and I ever had children, longing for the day when it would be our own kids who would need our help as they shakily read through the Bible on Christmas evening. Three years ago, on what would be Bigmom’s last Christmas with us here on earth, she gave a full-on message as great as any pastor could deliver, after the reading. She spoke with passion and urgency, almost as if she somehow knew that year could be her last in keeping with the sacred tradition. I remember giggling with my husband on the way home as we agreed that she should have given an altar call after that mini-sermon! I am sure I am not alone when I say that particular year will forever be etched in my heart.
As we dive a little deeper into the Christmas story using this platform over the next few weeks, considering the different perspectives of those who were close to Jesus on that holy night, I encourage you to follow along with us. Allow yourself to be caught up in the wonder of that first Christmas. A King lay in a bed of straw, surrounded by shepherds and angels praising God and rejoicing! Oh, what joy and hope Jesus would bring to the world, and it all began on a quiet night in Bethlehem.
Last Christmas it was finally my son’s turn to read that special Scripture passage from the book of Luke. My sweet Cohen sat on his dad’s lap as I recorded that precious moment with tears in my eyes. After he finished, my husband gave a few words that were heartfelt but held a tinge of sadness, as we all felt the weight of the one missing who should have been there to wrap it all up in a pretty bow. I know Bigmom would have been so proud of them both, and perhaps the Lord allowed her a little glimpse, to which she would have most assuredly responded, “Good job, bud! Never forget, it was a true story. It really happened!”
However you celebrate and whatever special traditions your family holds, that is my prayer for you this season. That the Truth of the Christmas story would be made real to you and the ones you love.
Merry Christmas!