yea lord we greet thee

I knew in my heart that today would be special at church since it is Christmas Sunday.  It did not dawn on me until we got neck deep in carols and scripture that it was on this day four years ago that my mother's hip broke as she was attending her last church service.  She did not fall and break it, it just snapped and then she went down.   She was on her way from the Sellers' class to the sanctuary to meet Lauren when it happened.  Mama's sweet nurse friend Tracy had taken her to church and Lauren was to bring her back to assisted living.  It never happened.  The hip was pinned and she went to rehab which is where we celebrated our last Christmas together.  I brought food and Bubba, Lauren and I surrounded her with what love and warmth we could muster.  It was obvious she was not doing well.  I'll spare the details but in less than a month, she was gone.  

She was never truly happy after Daddy died five months prior.  They had been together for 61 years.  Not only did she lose her husband but her home as well.  It was a dark time for our family that had begun a year earlier with a string of losses.  My Daddy's sister in January, Mom's sister in June and just a couple of weeks later Lauren's dad.  Then Daddy in August and mom in January.  We spent a lot of time at the funeral home.  I was still working and just about lost it over all this with heavy pressure on me at the job to do more and do better.  Needless to say I cracked and didn't last much longer.  

All of this was swirling in my mind during this joyous occasion this morning and I found myself close to tears.  On the way out Mama's cousin's wife slipped me something and urged me to open it.  It was a thank you car featuring Floyd Speck's snowy cabin and my mother's scribbled words.  Thanks to Ann for making our 60th anniversary an event!  She had surprised them with balloons in Sunday School.  When I saw my mother's handwriting I lost it and the tears flowed all the way through a big Mary Beth hug and into the parking lot.  Triggers are tough but they serve a place in the grief process.  

Except for their All Saints Day honors, I did not go back to that church for several years.  The pastor who had babied us through all that left due to health issues.  Something led me back earlier this year.  It was the Holy Spirit, I feel sure.  It was hard at first because everything in that building reminds me of them.  Pastors changed and I became more engaged.  I have no doubt that they have my back just like Dell did.

The story of the birth of Jesus is as miraculous as his rising from the dead.  Poor virgin Mary found herself pregnant even though she had not had sex with Joseph.  He was preparing to do what was customary for the time when an angel of God visited him and told him what was up.  You know the rest of the story.  

Hold your tribe tightly and with love.  Believe in miracles.  And above all, keep the faith ^j^