Peaceful Rest

Several years ago, we had quite a Christmas at our house. Not only were the usual suspects there (Ed, Mollianne, Annie, Forest, Malcolm and Sean) but also my sister’s family (Linda, Joey, BobbieJo, MJ and Sami), my parents (Bob and Charlotte) my step-daughters (Danika and Angel…both with boyfriends who are now ex-boyfriends), my brother-in-law and maybe a few more. Who could count them all?

I remember 2 things in particular. The first is that it was noisy. You can’t have that many people (especially people in my family) in one house and not have a lot of chatter, giggling, laughing, screeching and loud over-talking. Just can’t do it. No way. No how. It was loud. When Ed and I slipped away the nights we spent at a friend’s house, we commented on how quiet the quiet was when we got there.

The second memory is that I was sick. I used to get sick every Christmas, but it had been quite some time since I had been this ill, much less at Christmas. I woke up on the 23^rd with a scratchy throat, but went on to Church and sang in the Christmas program. I opted out of the annual ‘Cutting of the Christmas Tree’ and tried to get a nap on the couch. By the evening, I was running a pretty fair temperature and feeling awful. With a house-full of company!

I woke up on Christmas Eve with no voice at all, and was coughing a deep and horrible cough. It was official. I was sick. Really sick. I had to call the Music Director at church and tell her that I would be unable to sing my solo at the early Christmas Eve service. Actually, I whispered to her, but she got what I was trying to say. I think she had caller ID and figured out who was calling and managed to get to the bottom line from my croaky whispering.

As the day progressed, I felt worse and worse. It began to get dark and everyone was scurrying to get ready for church. I was on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket trying to hold my eyes open. There was no way I was going to get dressed up and go to church. If I went at all, it would be in the clothes I was wearing. As I observed the pandemonium in my house, my Sweet Daddy came and sat close to me. He brushed the hair back from my face and whispered, “Would you like me to stay home with you while the rest of them go to church?” Would I???

I should tell you that I am The Self-Proclaimed Queen of Daddy’s Girls. I have found comfort in his arms more times that I can count. I tried to open my eyes enough to focus on his face and croaked out a very weak, “Yes sir!” He sat down beside me and I leaned into those wonderful arms that have been a haven to me for over 50 years. We were both asleep before the last of the church-goers left the house.

We were still asleep, with my head on his shoulder when they burst in from church. I’ll have to say that they came in loudly, but I guess you’d have figured that out!

What a sweet Christmas memory, but it blends into so many other memories of times when my Sweet Daddy was there for me. I am so blessed to have an earthly father whose life has continually pointed me to my Heavenly Father. How easy it is for me to believe that My Father loves and cares for me when I’ve lived my whole life knowing how much my Sweet Daddy loves me. If he cares for me so…how much more does God care for me?

How wonderful to rest in The Father’s arms, with all of our burdens, weariness and busy-ness of the season when we celebrate the birth of His Son!

What burdens are you carrying? Has the Christmas season already got you down? Do you need the arms of a loving Father to give you rest?

All you have to do is ask and He is there. His wonderful promise in Matthew 11:28 is this: Come to me, all of you who are weary and loaded down with burdens, and I will give you rest. (International Standard Version 2008)