Christmas Memories

When I was in my senior year of college, there were a few weeks nearing the end of the year when the academic load was especially heavy. The hours of study were intense, the looming final exams formidable. In preparation for my senior project, I kept my head down and worked as hard as I possibly could to finish well. 

Even so, it was just barely enough. 

I remember one particular early morning during those final weeks of college. My dad came upstairs to say goodbye to me before he left for work, and he discovered I had been up all night working and studying. I hadn't eaten, I hadn't moved from my desk in hours. 

Without a word, in his suit and tie, he went downstairs and made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and poured me a huge glass of milk. I don't remember speaking to him, so focused on my work - but I do remember seeing him holding that plate in his hands, wearing his suit and tie. I do remember looking at him and nodding that I was okay, and him kissing the top of my head. He went on to work, and I went on with life. But the memory of it has stayed.

One small moment in a billion, and it mattered.

As parents, we never know what our children are going to remember and what they won't. We have no control over their memories or their perspective - although we can certainly guide, steer, and illuminate each at times. 

But I guarantee you my dad never would have thought that moment would matter to me at age 38. That it would still make me feel safe.

It makes me wonder what moments and small gestures are pressing themselves on the hearts of my daughters, as I continue living life as best I can. It is a tender thought, and also a frightening one; the understanding that it is all being written on their little lives, day in and day out, forming so much of who they will be - whether I'm aware of it or not.

It's an incredibly daunting and wonderful calling, to be their mommy. I desire to do it well. I will fail at many things; but the Lord... the Lord, He will not.

- - -

This Christmas season, many parents will turn to their wine for comfort and joy, comfort and joy. Others will numb their hearts by streaming movies or shopping. The stockings will be hung by the chimney with care, while the little souls in their care will wilt from the strain of the Christmas pace the parents have set for them.

But what if... 

What if this Christmas, our children saw us choose to settle still and quiet into the silent nights and stay home? What if we prayed together for the broken world and the people in it that our Savior came to save? What if we chose to forego the streamed movies now and then, and read a book that makes us long for the more we've forgotten? 

What if we served our spouses and children just as much as we shopped online for them? What if we filled our homes with carols that provoke our heart to worship, instead of merely the ones that are radio-worthy? 

Because we never know which moments will stick with them until they're 38 years old, and beyond. And maybe the moments they'll remember are the not-so-sparkly ones. The ones that never get photographed. The ones where a dad brings a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to his daughter who has been up all night studying. The ones where we talk with our seven year old about why Jesus came to die, while looking at the Christmas tree together. 

The little bitty moments that don't need any wrapping. That don't cost any money. 

That will pierce their heart with sweetness, every remaining day of their lives.