Sounds of the Season

Last night on my drive home from choir practice, I scanned the radio for Christmas music. I don't turn into a Christmas nut this time of year--having to have Christmas absorb every aspect of my life--but I do enjoy the season. I especially enjoy the music of the season.

During the time I was scanning the radio, I heard three different arrangements of The Christmas Song ("Chestnuts roasting on an open fire"), the arrangement of White Christmas with the really cool backing vocals ("Dup-dup, dup-da-dup-dup"), and the perhaps the oddest thing I have ever heard anyone play on the radio, The Twelve Days of Christmas performed by The Muppets. It was all thoroughly enjoyable although I'm having trouble figuring out why anyone would play last one on the radio. Muppets are kind of visual . . . I digress. It got me thinking about how important music is to me in making Christmas real.

I am amazed at just how many Christmas songs there are. Even more amazing is the shear number of Christmas songs that I like. I have no use for Elton John's Christmas Song, or George Michael's and (dare I say it) I can't stand The First Noel. But my reasons for not liking these songs stem from stupidity in the lyrics. For example, Elton John's Christmas Song, actually begins with the lyric, "Welcome to my Christmas song." Blech! For those of you who are wondering about The First Noel, just take a minute to look it up and read the text. It's very poorly written. The message is good I guess but ever since I realized what a bad poem it is, I can't sing it without being annoyed. Anyway, aside from these three I can't think of a single Christmas song that I don't like. (Unless Neil Young ever made a Christmas album and then I hate everything on that.) That's really saying something considering how many there are.

And it is so great when you come across a really good arrangement of a beloved Christmas song. One of the arrangements of The Christmas Song that I listened to on the way home was by Vince Gill. It was wonderful, if for no other reason but that no one on earth has a voice to compare with Vince. Raven Simone (of That's So Raven) was singing Silent Night the other night on the Disney Channel. What she did with that song was absolutely beautiful. And Steven Curtis Chapman does O Come, O Come Emmanuel on his first Christmas album in a way that is both touching and glorious. There's no real way to describe how I feel when I hear a Christmas song done well. It's magical.

I also love the fun songs. A couple of years ago, the country group Ricochet recorded a version of Let It Snow that is unbelievable to listen to. There is perhaps nothing cheesier on earth than the backing vocals on Elvis' Blue Christmas, and I absolutely adore it. I love Sleigh Ride in all it's forms and variations. And of course there's my favorite novelty song of the season, Christmas with the Family. (You were expecting something about grandmothers and reindeer, weren't you?)

But it's not just my individual experience of hearing these songs on the radio that makes them special. It's when I get to sing them with a choir, or with my kids while driving home from work, or with the congregation of my church, that makes them special. See, to me it seems, that no matter what the song talks about, if it celebrates Christmas it is in fact, celebrating Christ. And where two or three are gathered in His name, He has promised to be there. That's what Christmas is about--God coming to be with us. What better way to gather in His name than to lift our voices in song?

I sincerely hope that everyone out there in blog-world will have a very Merry Christmas!

Counting One Particularly Big Blessing

Saturday afternoon at about 2:00, Lewis finally asked me what I had been waiting for him to ask me all day--would I take him to the doctor. He had been running a fever since the day before and complaining that he hurt all over, among other things. We left home to take him to Urgent Care with the girls with us.

Unfortunately, the Urgent Care in our hometown has moved and we didn't know. We had the girls with us, but I thought that would be fine because we were just going to the Dr. Well, we ended up going to a different Urgent Care office in another town close by. The nurse there took one look at him and sent us to the Emergency Room.

In the meanwhile, Lewis is looking paler and paler. Marley and Laney have not had decent naps or lunch and I have not had a decent nap or lunch. So, I did what most people who have the luxury would do in such a situation, I called my mommy. Mom and Dad came and took the girls home with them, so that I could fully concentrate on Lewis.

We spent three hours in the emergency room just waiting. Lewis was in a lot of pain. When they finally finished drawing blood and getting samples, the Doctor came and told us that he had a kidney infection. He immediately started giving Lewis antibiotics and pain medication through an i.v.

While I was sitting there waiting with him, my mind was racing. I can't bear to be that worried or scared and so I bowed my head and began to pray. I think my prayer began, "Lord, why me? Lord, why Lewis?, Why is it that we can't seem to all be well at the same time in this family?" But then the Lord began to speak to me. I remembered that even though what I was going through was hard, at least I was going through it.

Let me explain, if the Lord had not given me Lewis, I would not have been at the emergency room on Saturday night. If He had not blessed me with this good man, I would not have my wonderful children. I probably would not have my job. I probably would not have a home of my own. I would not have any of the happy memories of the past eight years. God has blessed me by giving me Lewis in the first place. At least if I have to worry over something, I have someone worth worrying over.

I cannot fathom what it must be like to sit beside the bed of your loved one and know that they are not going to recover. I don't know how someone can stand to watch their loved one leave this world. But I can tell you this much, I'm blessed to know the best source of strength to make it through such things. When and if that time ever comes, I am blessed that I know who gave Lewis to me and to whom he returns.

Tomorrow makes eight years since the day I met Lewis. We live about two miles from the house where we met, but we have come such a long way together. And perhaps the biggest blessing of all is knowing that we still have a long way to go.