COMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
by Virelle Kidder
My
mother had remarkable zeal for Christmas. Weeks in advance, she would
come home from teaching school and bake late into the night. The https://www.elmarair.com/ helped
clean the house and decorate the tree while my older brother Roger
wired the house with Christmas lights, transforming our humble red
house into a place of magical beauty.
Although the job duties are similar, Beverly Hills office usually work for certified agencies or hospices that are government-funded.
Following the church candlelight
service, a crowd of happy people crunched through the snow to our house
for cocoa and cookies.
We were, like many, quite alone in the
years after my father left. Our Christmas open house was my mother's
supreme effort to make us feel complete. It almost worked.
Despite
years in church and Sunday school, God was more a distant relative I
wished I knew. I grew up with a gnawing sense of incompleteness, and
longed to find meaning and purpose in life. Strangely, it was shortly
before Christmas years later that it found me.
My husband Steve
was fully absorbed with his new job at Johns Hopkins University, and I
was home with a two year old. We wanted friends, but were both hesitant
when Steve's officemate his wife invited us to attend their church. We
had nothing in common with "religious types," but Steve said, "Let's be
nice and go just once."
Sitting in church that Sunday, my
temples pounded. Hymns and Scripture verses long ago ignored called to
me from my childhood. Could others tell I didn't belong here? Oddly, I
felt jealous of their peace. They looked happy.
First thing
Monday morning I began tearing through the unpacked boxes in our
basement. At last, I found my mildewed Bible from fifth grade. I
resolved to read it cover to cover. I opened to Genesis, chapter 1.
Same old story; I've heard this a hundred times, and quickly slammed it
shut.
No one told me God could
hear my thoughts. A soft Voice whispered, Why not read as if it were
true? I opened my Bible again. Suddenly I was listening to the most
interesting person I had ever heard. By afternoon I was still reading
in my pajamas. I couldn't stop.
I read for weeks until
one day, a picture popped in my mind of a beautiful old house with wide
porches, brightly lit at night. Music, laughter and lively conversation
carried onto the porch where I stood in the dark, peeking in. I saw a
feast and a fire on the hearth, much like the Christmas open houses
from my childhood, with one important difference. There was a Father
here whose face mirrored love and warmth at His children's presence.
This was God's family, and I desperately wanted to be inside. But how?
A
voice taunted, Why would God want you? You don't fit in this crowd! It
was true. I considered giving up. Instead, I marched upstairs to our
bedroom, knelt down and prayed out loud, "Lord, help me find the way!
Please don't let me go!"
Verses I'd read made sense. Jesus said,
"I am the Way and the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father
except through me." (John 14:6)
Our friends explained that God
already knew I was a hopeless mess and loved me anyway. Opening the
door to Heaven was a gift that cost God everything. It was on the cross
Jesus died to pay for my sins. He rose again to prove forever that He
is the Truth. Weeping at such love, I knelt and gave Christ my life. I
found that, with or without a happy family, no one is ever complete
without Jesus.
Virelle
Kidder is a conference speaker and the author of six books and numerous
articles whose passion is sharing the love of God with women around the
world. For her latest books, please visit her at www.virellekidder.com and www.meetmeatthewell.fm
Athree strand pearl necklace will be given away on New Year's Day. All
you need to do to have a chance of winning is leave a comment here.
Come back on New Year's Day to see if you won!
12 Pearls of Christmas Series and contest sponsored by Pearl Girls®. For more information, please visit www.pearlgirls.info