Silent Night

This morning I was reflecting back on the first Christmas Steve and I spent alone. In fact, it's one of only two that we've ever spent alone in our entire marriage. It was 1992 and I had spent the summer in Montana while Steve was deployed for 4 months. It was our 4th year being married and since I had spent the summer at home, we opted to pay off our truck and spend Christmas in North Carolina, just the two of us. It was also the first year we'd purchased a Christmas tree. Since we always came home it didn't make sense to waste money on a tree.

The neighborhood and air base were virtually deserted. We didn't go to church much then but found a place to attend candlelight service because we felt like that's what you do on Christmas (I know, how hypocritical). Then we went home, lit a fire in the fireplace, quietly opened our gifts and watched a movie. The next day we put on our coats and went to the beach. It was virtually deserted too--probably because it was winter and nobody in their right mind goes to the beach in December. We took a long walk with our faithful companion, Gizmo. He so loved to dig in the sand.

It was there I found a great treasure. A completely whole sand dollar. There were always tons on the beach but they were all broken, stepped on by one beach goer after another. But this one wasn't missing a single chip. It was a Christmas miracle! (insert laughs here) I loved it.

Truly, it was a silent night, a holy night. If only we'd been in the right place spiritually. It could have been an even greater Christmas.

Tonight will not be so silent. After candlelight service we will head to my mom's where the family will be gathered and the festivities will begin. My family is rarely quiet. We will laugh, tease, remember, and then go for the throat in competition. I love it too.

While I really cherish the memories of the two silent Christmases, I also cherish my noisy ones.