Christmas Trials

Guest Blog

Nativity

By Laurie Jane Stawicki

It was Christmas break, and I was home from college. I attended the University of Northern Iowa. The big white farmhouse with green shutters housed my two younger brothers, who were 16 and 18 and my sister who was 18 months older than I. Her boyfriend was visiting from Germany, and we were having our common teenage times of visiting with friends, and doing our regular things, however, all was not well.

As we watched our mom go from a bright-eyed perky person to a depressed, zombie-like state, we worried and wondered and hoped.

Christmas that year was strange without Dad, who had left us to go with another. But what was stranger was that Mom’s brother Uncle D. came and helped Mom shop for gifts for us. The usual lights and brights of Christmases past were not to visit us that year. Christmas morning was solemn and somber as mom sat in a catatonic state on the couch and we took turns opening our gifts and thanking her. We had gifts for her too but she seemed vacant and foggy.

Later that day, preparing to go to my Grandmother’s house in town, my brothers and sister and I snapped a picture of ourselves out in the snow by our cars.  Someone had lobbed a snowball at someone else so there were a few smiles, but in the photo, the strain and worry and somberness of that particular season showed up on our faces.

I am not telling this to depress you. I am sharing this because not everyone around us is having a merry Christmas.  Although we all have so much to be thankful for, even for breath, food, clothes, life, and whatever family and friends remain in our lives, we can be thankful! Even if loved ones are no longer in your life, it is great to remember them with gratitude; the opportunity to have known them and to share some part of your life enriched or taught you or brought understanding that we may not have had any other way.

I have often said that people need to have grace on others while in the grocery line and while driving. I think it’s important to be polite and give others the benefit of the doubt. You never know what news they just received from the doctor, or what family member had a difficult thing to share on the phone that morning. We need to not take everything personally but give our brothers and sisters on the earth grace for whatever may be happening in their lives.

How about you? Can you relate to a joyous occasion turning out less than joyous? Or a season of loss and grief in life that seems to be accentuated by the expectations that there should be joy and peace?

What would you say if I told you that there can be joy and peace no matter what has happened, and no matter what is going on in your life? When we look up to the cross and to Christ and see the sorrows that he endured in order to make sure we had a way to have access to his most loving, holy, heavenly Father for eternity, we can focus on the blessing of Christmas; the fact that because Jesus Christ the Messiah came to earth, we can see through any trial, looking forward to the end result, the salvation of our souls.

© 2020 Laurie Jane Stawicki

Laurie Stawicki, singer/song-writer, poet and writer, lives, loves and creates in Iowa where she is mom to five children (and others by association) and a labradoodle dog.  Raised in a Christian home, yet marked by abuse, she has spent her time praying, journaling, reading and singing all the while learning more and more about the healing God offers through his Son Jesus Christ. It is her hope that her upcoming book, “Sacrifice of Tears,” will be a blessing to others by showing them the possibility of redemption even through family tragedy, and the hope we all can have in the Lord.

She can be reached at Laurie.Jane1 at yahoo.com and www.LaurieStawicki.com.

No Conditions. Just Love.

Advent wreath and candles

1 John 3:1. See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so, we are.

Despite our best efforts, we just lose control of the situation involving our kids, our co-workers, our family and friends, our health, whatever is precious. How do we get through?

       The peaceful glow of the white Christmas tree lights and flickering Advent wreath candles lull me into a curled-up position on the couch.  I pull out my Light upon Light Advent book with my soft purple macramé quilt draped over me. It is so good to be back home. Our Benji-dog Rascal snuggles into position by my stomach and sighs contentedly.  I adjust my head on the pillow and turn over for better light. Unfortunately, a small turkey dinner leads me into deep dreamy slumber, the book falling silently onto the carpet. So tired.

The dream began with a loud buzz that startled me, felt a blast of cold air and a railing. I looked over to see the bedside monitor by the empty fluid bag. My heart rate slowed a bit as I deep breathe as I focused on how I got to where I was.  It had started as a simple doctor visit. The doctor came in with the test results. I twisted my wedding ring from habit and look at my husband as we focused on the doctor’s face as he gave us his diagnosis. “You need to go to the hospital. We will call the ambulance for you.”

 “No other choice?”  My husband of 31 years Roger and I looked wordlessly at each other and touched hands. We knew that I must get effective treatment soon.

“This is very serious, Bonnie. You need hospitalization, now.” 

So, in what seemed like slow motion the doctor, efficient, gentle EMTs and nurses got me to the hospital emergency room. My IV embedded into my skin and fluids attached. Test after test, question after question. Blessedly no Co-vid, but now I would be in a solitary room for 3 ½ days with a condition that can turn deadly.

My attention came back with soft footfalls of the caring nurse who quietly shut off the buzzer, checked my vitals and set to work. As I heard her gentle, quieting words as she changed the bag, I reflected on the hands and feet of Christ Jesus. These amazing, dedicated and caring front liners helped me with tests, blood draws, consultations and so much more, even sitting with me holding my hand during difficult times. All of these moments led up to the new cool liquid antibiotics flowing through my veins to effectively start the process of killing off the advanced kidney infection in my bloodstream.

In this darkness after she left, the One Light deep in my heart and loving prayers enveloped me, raining down loving comfort of my Healer Who was holding my hand. A peaceful sleep covered me. So tired.

Ka thump! Seventeen pounds of furry reality lands on my chest with a soft wet, pink tongue licking my face. My eyes pop open to see big dark brown eyes in the darkness peering down at me as if to say, “It’s okay, Mom. I am here for you.” I smile and snuggle close to the warm furry body. The brilliant white star from the tree echoes the loving response back to my heart. I am here with you now and always.

© 2020 Bonnie L. Smith-Davis