Well, here we are, Christmas Eve…
The presents are wrapped, the fridge is groaning with more food than its ever encountered before, the shops are officially shut, the kids are hyped and can’t sleep – not just because they’re so excited about what might happen tomorrow but because it’s very warm tonight. I think we’ll all have trouble sleeping due to the heat. Oh the joys of a New Zealand Christmas! Meanwhile it seems as though the entire Northern Hemisphere is blanketed in more snow than has ever been seen this side of Christmas.
Getting to this point today – to be as ready as I can be for the onslaught that will be coming our way tomorrow – has been a bit like climbing Mount Everest. However, Libby turned out to be the most wonderful Sherpa Tensing and had lots of good advice about en masse catering and was also a great help with the Caroline situation. Of course she was so organised she was able to drop everything yesterday and get around to Caroline’s house and at least be another shoulder to cry on. Thank you for the blessing of friendship and fellowship, Lord, and for the blessing even the most unlikely person can be to another. When I think of how aloof and superior Libby seemed to me way back when, it makes me feel a bit ashamed of judging the proverbial book by its cover.
Anyway, Lord, who knows what will transpire tomorrow, or even who will turn up. As you know, Mum called to say that she’s not happy that she may not see James and Jasmine at all tomorrow – some story from James about him hating the sight of Claire and William and how he would rather have bamboo shoots implanted under his fingernails than willingly spend time with them – although in reality it is Jasmine’s birthday tomorrow (quite a day for a birthday!) and they are supposed to be spending the day with her family.
I wasn’t really expecting them if truth be told and couldn’t really tell where Mum was going with her comments until I realised she was considering boycotting our Christmas to make a point about her precious boy not feeling comfortable enough to come here. I mean, really, does she not realise James will do what James wants to do, regardless of anyone else’s efforts on his behalf? So, we will just have to wait and see if James or Jasmine, or in fact Mum, turn up at all. By the time she talked to me I was so over the whole thing I couldn’t be bothered buying in to her drama. Wild horses won’t keep Dad away so I’m sure all will be well in the end.
Besides, dealing with Mum will be nothing to dealing with Claire and William themselves since neither Andrew nor I have had the guts (or the chance) to tell Ma and Pa Copeland that they will be far from the royal guests of honour, and have more chance of being stomped on or used as a trampoline than they have of being waited on hand and foot. Quite what they will make of it all I just don’t know. I do hope I get to see the look on Claire’s face, though, when she meets Jess who is likely to come dressed in her usual off-duty Goth black!
So, I just want to pray that your hand would be on our family tomorrow (since I am unlikely to get to my prayer journal), that you would bless our family and all who enter our home, that the food would be sublime and that no one would be ridiculous, and that the children would all behave well as though their lives depended on it. I also pray that amongst the presents, the eating and the fellowship that we would all be reminded about the most precious gift of all…and that’s you, Lord. Thank you for coming to seek and save us!
Amen, Lord, Amen.