What Happens…Part II

We had Gaza Girl with us for three days this Christmas. She managed to survive the Kounouz rousing her at least three hours earlier that she would have liked. I think she enjoyed the stocking stuffers and I KNOW she liked her presents! Having her was a blessing for all of us. It is the first time I spent Christmas Eve checking the news for the status of Gaza Christians being ‘let out’ for Christmas. Perspective, perspective, perspective. I hope all our activity was able to bring her some joy when she couldn’t be with her family.

Without one complaint about ‘dressing handsome’, we all went to morning church in Arabic, and it was a lovely celebration with our Urdani family in Christ. I love what they do now: after worship and teaching time, the church serves qawah saada and chocolates, so we use that time to greet and visit with one another instead of packing in ten more visits after the fact. The police were better behaved that morning, they actually stopped traffic to get us across the street with no smart remarks.

Getting home, I was horrified to discover that the chickens I was to cook for the Main Meal Deal were still rock solid frozen. Oops. Then my hostess called with a question, which doubly horrified me to learn that the MMD was at 1pm, not 3pm. Not only did I need to go hustle up some roasted chickens, I needed to get everyone out the door in half an hour.

That was managed with no yelling or temper tantrums (on my part) and we joined 35 or so others for a VERY fun Christmas dinner. Yummy, the spread was enormous and delicious, many different cultures bringing their culinary Christmas offerings to share. I offered to join Skeeter in the kitchen (he carves turkey well) but my hostess said: “You go do what you do best, go talk to people!” Heh-heh, my best friends know not to entrust me with a time-sensitive task when there are fascinating people to meet!

It is always good to pray before a meal, but especially one like this. Not only does it give us sense of unity with such a very diverse Christian body, it keeps us from stampeding the tables. After eating, we gathered for the time honored tradition of the white elephant Gift Exchange. Each participant brings the most crazy, ugly, bizarre thing they have around the house, wraps it up, and piles it on a table in the middle of the circle. We draw numbers, and the first person can pick any gift and open it. The next person can either ’steal’ the first gift, or choose another one. And so one. Each gift can only be stolen twice. We discover the true understanding of the proverb that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure as you see who gos after what. There are usually two or three REALLY good gifts, this year is was Ferrero chocolate and a box of Dead Sea Bath Salts, and the competition was fierce. It is really fun to play as a family, as you strategize for one another. Lil Kinz (who now wants to be known as “Lil Angel”) ended up with some very fancy jewelry boxes thanks to her brother and mom. And Gaza Girl shared her teeny teddy bear, suh-weet!

After that, DESSERT. AAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhh, dessert. Christmas cake, mincemeat pies, chocolate chip cheesecake, FUDGE, brownies with peppermint frosting (my addition sugar cookies, gingerbread, yes indeed yummmmmmmmmmmmmy. Over dessert, I met a really nice Peace Corp volunteer. Raised in a fairly secular home, he only knew the words to one Christmas carol. I  think he was kind of surprised to discover that evangelical Christians are actually pretty fun and not entirely stupid. Different in person than the press paints us. Sort of like Muslims, I suppose.

When we are sufficiently stuffed, we need to re-awaken the intellect. Based on if you are right or left brained, you either join the card players in the kitchen (Skeeter) or the “CatchPhrase” players in the living room (me). It was hilarious, I love that game. Not just cause I can win, either. They really need an advanced edition for the ‘world’ category…it was embarrassingly American/militarily focused. Mr. Peace Corp was on my team, as well as our pastor, so we rocked.

Ahhh, it was a lovely celebration. Really the best ever, I’m not sure I can wait twelve months until next year! Gaza Girl, thanks for making it even more special, even more focused on Jesus Christ. The continued troubles and tragedies of His birthplace do not dampen the inner joy, but remind us all the more of why He came. Glory. Amazing love.

So Maher, I hope that answers your question. Maybe next year, you’d like to come along for a part of it.

It’s really time to say Happy New Year (did you notice how many bloggers are typing away and posting in the last hour? We’re all on-line at the same time…shu kewl), so I will close with that wish for all my readers. God richly bless you all!