Oh, Holy Night

It is Christmas Eve.

The presents were opened early. Sarah and Jacob have headed to their downtown Nashville home. Dennis and I are sitting outside the motor home around one of those mesh/cone/firebox things with a Duraflame log flickering. I would have lost a fortune if I had ever bet against you ever finding us on Christmas Eve around an artificial log in a KOA campground within sight of the Opryland Hotel! And yet, I am aglow in the peace of this night and warmed by the wonder of the love of family and friends, present and past.

Institutional religion has long ago lost its allure for me. Even though the glory of Christmas music filling a sanctuary still can accessorize a Christmas Eve celebration, tonight even that is not necessary. We found a Nashville radio station with non-stop Christmas music. Who knew there were so many country music versions of all our favorites?

There is a chill in the Nashville air, but a glance toward Dennis and a deep look into our artificial fire warms me to my core. I pause for just a moment in a curious reflection upon anyone who could see our lives and still believe that our relationship is not valid, not worthy of an equal standing with our straight brothers and sisters, and even a sin. Of all the sorrows in the world, of all the divine challenges my God must face every day, I simply cannot believe that God actually could care less if the state chose to recognize our love and the love we give together to this world.

Such thoughts are fleeting. I settle upon memories of Christmas Eves past, focusing on my lifelong belief that a child was born this night long, long ago. I still wonder at the fear and love of an unwed mother, wrapping her newborn son and placing him in a feeding trough of a dirty stable. I fast forward to the wonder of my youngest child Sarah wrapping critically ill babies in blankets and saving many of their lives with the skills she has worked so hard to acquire.

I recall the recent visits with Rob and Rebekah and Laura and Jens. I smile at what I have seen these past weeks as they love and nurture their new babies. I marvel that the unconditional love of Mary and the unconditional love of my children's parents and grandparents are so naturally passed on to these new members of our world. I know that the world will be a better place because my children and their wonderful spouses are a part of it all.

I shiver for a moment in the night chill but return quickly to my memories. My mind is flooded with the thrills of Christmas Eves as a child made so special by parents struggling to provide for four children, yet always making Christmas a time of amazing memories.

Flooding my heart are memories of years of assembling Hot Wheels and rocking horses after the kids were asleep, searching by phone (pre-Internet) for a Cabbage Patch doll (having to settle for buying a Cabbage Patch doll head and sewing and stuffing a doll body in an attempt to save a Christmas), and waiting while Sarah performed her annual duties of package distribution on Christmas morn.

Still as special as this season is in my Christian heritage, Dennis and I still pause and wonder at the experience of watching our son-in-law Jacob light his Menorah candles and sing the ancient songs that the baby Jesus would soon learn and sing his entire life. I wonder at the love and understanding we are priviledged to share with those of other faiths. I mourn the ungodliness of the sufferring and death that people of different faiths (including my own) have brought to others throughout history.

The cold overtakes me. Dennis and I leave our burning wax log and head into our motor coach. Home is truly where one's heart is. It really is love that makes a home, and I am at home with my life partner Dennis.

Oh, holy night.