In Which Christmas Comes to My Heart

It happened tonight, in the most unexpected of places.

Under an awning, out in the country, Christmas caroling with a huge crowd of mostly young folk. A voice came from behind, quiet and sure. . . .

Silent night, Holy Night,
Son of God, Love's pure light. . . . . 

Time stopped, just for a moment.

Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of Redeeming Grace. . . . 

I looked around me. Surrounded by a crowd of joyful, eager voices, singing praises to a King born in a manger.

Singing to a neighboring widow, her face beaming with joy of a Savior known.

Singing under the leadership of precious friends, whose impact in the life of my family cannot be measured.

I'll admit it - I stopped singing. I couldn't. Just couldn't. My heart was too full, it rose in my throat and the tears trickled down my cheeks.

Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth -
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.

I've been very list-focused these past two weeks.
"Get it all done" has been my mantra, whispered seductively in my ear by that part of me that thinks Christmas is within my grasp, within my power, within my will and my might to make it happen. And by golly, I have gotten it all done.

Except.

How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is giv'n
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heaven.

But I couldn't make Christmas happen where it mattered.
Until tonight, when God Himself reached down and touched this cold, weary heart and used a widow,  an old, tattered awning, a Christmas carol, and a beautiful Alabama night to whisper "Grace" to my soul.

We returned for bluegrass and goodies, but I hardly noticed the food or the music. Except for this one carol:

Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown,
When Thou camest to earth for me;
But in Bethlehem's home was there found no room
For Thy holy nativity.
O come to my heart, Lord Jesus,
There is room in my heart for Thee.

Indeed.

Merry Christmas to one and all.