Christmas Eve.  We’ve finished wrapping the presents and the three of us are sitting on the couch watching A Christmas Story and drinking hot chocolate.  With marshmallows of course.  The commercials are still all about those heartwarming  Christmas stories, but not for much longer.  Children everywhere are either in or getting ready for bed so Santa can put things under the tree tonight.  Our day tomorrow will be a quiet one, again just the three of us and we’ll all get together the day after Christmas with everyone else.  Doug will be baking and we’ll have a nice dinner together and open a few presents in the morning.  All the traditions of Christmas, right?

So many of us forget the real reason for the season, the birth of our Savior, Jesus.  As a kid, Jesus was not a part of our Christmas.  My parents decided that when I was old enough, I could decide for myself what “religion” I wanted to be, if any.  On very rare occasions when we would visit my great aunt, we would go to the Catholic church and I would have to wear a lace doily on my head.  I always thought that was pretty, but didn’t understand why of course.  When I hit Jr. High School, I had this one friend who, when she found out I didn’t attend church, invited me all the time.  I remember telling her I was going to become a Mormon (because of Donny Osmond of course – I’m not kidding) and she responded with “well as long as you go somewhere”.

I should say here that in the 6th grade, I went away to a summer camp.  While this doesn’t seem like it has anything to do with the story, it is actually an integral part.  This was not really my usual thing – archery, row boating, fishing, etc.  However, I met another girl who, like me, was homesick and a bit awkward like me.  Her name was Laurie and we become friends.  Years later she stepped into my life again when she invited me to come to her church because they were going to have a musical and she knew I loved to sing.  So I accepted her invitation and not only sang with the group but sang a solo.  The solo was as Mary singing to Joseph, explaining to him how God had come to her and told her about the birth of Jesus.

For me, these were just lyrics, just characters to be sung.  But as we learned about the music, we also had a couple of college students spending time with us and explaining what these lyrics were about, helping us answer questions from scripture.  The evening of the first performance, I sat in my room and it suddenly hit me.  I was not worthy to be singing this part.  Mary was the mother of God and I was this completely unworthy person.  How in the world could I face an audience and sing these words?  I got on my knees by the side of my bed and prayed.  This was not something I was really used to doing.  I remember asking God to grant me the ability to fly when I was about 8 or so – not quite the same thing.  I had prayed for people before, by way of watching Davy and Goliath on TV but I had never prayed like this.

You can choose to believe me or not, but what happened next is something I will never forget.  I had a warm feeling that started at my feet and went to my head.  There was this buoyancy, this knowledge that Jesus was now my Savior.  I almost ran to the end of the street where the church was and where our group leader was standing outside.  She said she see the glow on my face coming down the street and knew exactly what had happened.

It has been slightly over 40 years since that night and while I have not always been the shining example of what He would want me to be, I know the reason for the season.  He has been with me through good times and bad, helped me grow in character, been the glue that solidified my marriage.  My faith grows as I get older and I am more sure of His presence in my life every day.  I’m not always as vocal about my faith as perhaps others might think I should be, but He knows my heart and my personality and He loves me despite my faults.  And to think, he used the passion He gave me for singing to speak to me.  So music isn’t just something I do for a living, it was the pathway to my salvation.

Merry Christmas and God’s blessings for a Happy New Year.