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She entered the living room to find all of her family waiting. Mom and Dad sat on the sofa, holding court with their grandchildren, except for Anna who was bustling around the kitchen as if she had been cooking all her life. Her daughter paused to say something to Charlene, which set them both off in a fit of giggles.

The men had gathered around the TV in the den to watch a football game, stuffing themselves with sirupsnip-per, and there, looking way too much at home, sat Nick Chalmers. And after she had told Anna she couldn’t invite him. She would have a talk with that young lady later.

Rose snatched a cookie out of Eric’s hand. “You’re spoiling your dinner.”

Someone got a touchdown. She didn’t have a clue who was playing, but judging from the whoops from the men, it was the favored team. Joey high-fived Nick, then turned to do the same with Eric. Rose heaved a frustrated sigh. Men! They could bond over the silliest things, and it looked as if Joey liked the Chalmers boy.

Jamie slid her arm around Rose’s waist. “He’s a nice kid. Don’t worry so much.”

Rose leaned against her, welcoming this moment of sisterly closeness. “She’s not your daughter.”

“She’s not,” Jamie agreed. “But take time to get acquainted with Nick before you jump the gun. Remember it’s not a perfect world, never will be.”

Jo appeared in the doorway of the dining room. “Dinner is served.”

Joey seated Rose and her eyes moved around the table, drinking in the sight of loved ones. Her family. She loved them all, and still she got aggravated at them sometimes. Did God get aggravated at his family too? For sure.

After her father asked the blessing, Joey carved the turkey, handing out slices of white and dark meat on request. Bowls of potatoes, gravy, green beans, cranberry salad, and an overwhelming array of food passed around the table.
There was even lutefisk — the traditional Scandinavian fish dish. She glanced at her sister and sister-in-law, seated on either side of her.

“All right, who did this?”

Jamie grinned. “We did. Do you think you’re the only one who can carry on the tradition?” She flashed a grin and leaned to hug Rose. “I can make sirupsnipper and lutefisk if I must, but I’ll balk when it comes to providing seven different kinds of traditional cookies for the Christmas Eve table.”

“You faker!” Rose grinned. “You know how to bake cookies!”

“But I don’t want to bake cookies.”

“But you must,” Rose teased. “Next year, you and Jo will have the dinner.”

Her sister frowned “Let’s not get crazy.”

A round of laughter broke out and the meal began.

After dishes were cleared, Rose’s father took out the family Bible and read the Christmas story, the way he had done for as long as she could remember. Then it was time to leave for the Christmas Eve service.

Joey stood by her chair. “Are you sure you feel like going? If you don’t, I’ll stay home with you.”

She smiled up at him. “That sounds tempting, but I think I’d like to go. Let me get dressed. I’m a little woozy, but I’ll lean on you.”

He bent and kissed her. “You can always lean on me.”

Rose watched the comfortable bustle of family members donning coats and heavy gloves. The dinner had been excellent, the atmosphere relaxed and convivial, everyone appeared to have had a good time. Even Nick had seemed to enjoy himself. He’d fit in better than she expected. Jamie’s words came back to her.
Give him a chance
. Well, maybe she would. In another five years, three years’ difference in age wouldn’t be so bad.

She watched him help Anna with her coat and take her arm as they walked to his pickup. Her little girl riding in that thing?
God, protect them
.

Joey helped her into the van. “Relax. They’re only going to church.”

“Right, relax.” Not something she did all that well.

During the drive, Rose looked forward to the coming ser vice, one of her favorite times of the Christmas celebration. When the family filed into the pews, the sanctuary glowed with greenery, poinsettias, and candlelight. The pastors were resplendent in white cassock robes and stoles the color of the Christmas season.

Rose said a prayer of thanksgiving, her family was all together, and they were healthy and happy. Blessed. So very blessed.

The sanctuary filled with people of all walks of life, come to celebrate their Savior’s birth. The pipe organ swelled and the processional commenced with the cross, carried by a lay assistant, a banner, the robed choir, and the remaining clergy.

Rose relaxed, absorbing the familiar ritual. A sense of peace filled her as voices rose in praise.

Joey reached over and took her good hand, his fingers curling around hers. A warmth filled her. Joey, her children, her family — they were all so precious to her.

How could she have so busied herself with committees and meetings that she had no time for them? For that was exactly what she had done. Joey had tried to tell her, but she hadn’t understood. Here, in this holy place, set aside for worship of the Most High, she could see only too well how she had failed. Oh, she’d helped a few people, but she’d been too rushed to do a good job of anything.

Be still, and know that I am God.

The command echoed in her mind, as if God had singled her out. How could she truly worship God when she was too busy to be still and listen?

“Silent night,” the choir sang. “Holy night.”

It was indeed a holy night, the time set aside to celebrate the most precious gift given to mankind — Jesus, Savior of the world.

A blonde-haired young woman stepped forward to sing her solo. “All . . . he wants . . . is you.”

Rose silently filled in the blanks.
Nothing else will do
.How could she have been so blind? God never required her to run herself ragged trying to serve him. She had chosen to fill her days and nights with self-appointed tasks someone else could have done as well, or better. She’d neglected her family, not in serving God, but in serving a twisted parody of his Word that benefited few. Instead of giving herself to God, she had tried to give him a laundry list of works.

She closed her eyes, reaching out in the only way she knew — through prayer.
I’m sorry, God. So sorry. I’ ll learn,
and I’ ll do better. From now on, you direct my steps. Show
me what’s important and what’s not.

If all God wanted was this frustrated, harried, foolish woman, then she was ready to give herself over to him. Peace — sweet, comforting, overwhelming — flooded her. Tears stung her eyes, and her heart overflowed with love. Love for God, for Joey and her children, for her family gathered around her, for Blyth, Sue, and Jean. Love. That’s what it was all about. Loving and giving through love. God had given her another chance, and this time she’d get it right.

After ser vices, they emerged from church to see falling snow, like big tufts of cotton. Laughter broke out, hands reaching to catch pristine flakes. The family gathered back at Rose and Joey’s. Hand in hand, they walked around the Christmas tree singing carols.

Afterwards, they gathered around the table for cookies and coffee, then on to the gift exchange. Rose loved to watch the look on her parents’ faces when the family practiced the old customs.

Soon the living room was awash with wrapping paper, but this time Anna and Nick pitched in and cleaned up the mess.

Rose soaked in the festivities in a medicated bliss, thinking this had been the best Christmas Eve ever.

Even if she’d had to sprain a wrist in order to slow down.

An hour later, they said their last good-nights and Joey closed and locked the door. Sighing, Rose laid her head on her husband’s shoulder. “It was a good Christmas Eve.” He agreed that it was. A wonderful one. God was in control, not only in Rose’s own life, but in Anna and Nick’s. Rose just had to learn to trust.

“Honey,” she kissed him. “Thank you for all your work, for making this one of the most memorable Christmases.”

“It’s great to be able to do something for you, Rose. I enjoyed it.”

Later when they were in bed, Joey carefully put his arms around her, and she snuggled close.

“I hope the service wasn’t too much for you.”

“It wasn’t,” she assured him. “It was exactly what I needed.”

Wait until he had a chance to get acquainted with the new Rose. The day after tomorrow she would go over her list of committees and cut it in half. In a few months, she’d halve the list again. Eric and Anna would find their mother available when they came home from school. Joey would have his wife back, and she’d cook a pot roast every night if he wanted it.

Joey gave a light snore.

Grinning, Rose let the medicine relax her. “Goodnight, Lord, and thank you for my best Christmas Eve yet.”

The word
advent
means “coming” or “arrival.” The focus of the entire season is the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ in his first advent, and the anticipation of the return of Christ the King in his second advent. Advent symbolizes the spiritual journey of individuals and a congregation, as they affirm that Christ has come, that he is present in the world today, and that he will come again in power.

chapter 12

Rose shifted, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt.
If it wasn’t her back, it was a skinned knee, or a bruised elbow, or her little finger that throbbed in tandem with her heartbeat. Her sprained wrist ached every time she moved it. She hadn’t known so many places could hurt. Her neck was stiff and sore, and her head felt like it was gripped in a vise. God had a way of slowing you down, invited or uninvited.

She rolled to her side, wide awake, incapable of finding relief, thinking it must be somewhere close to midnight. She wanted to ask for more medication, but she knew she had already had her four-hour quota. Joey stirred, and she felt a hand massaging her aching shoulders. Almost immediately, she started to relax, drifting into a medicated haze. She should feel guilty about disturbing him, but it was so comforting to have him beside her. This big, lovable Swede blessed her life in countless ways.

“Hurting, hon?”

“Humm.” Tense muscles ached and her head pounded.

“Joey?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about tonight. You were wonderful, but everything got dumped on you.”

“Rose.” She heard a teasing note in his tone. “It’s the medicine talking, honey. Everything was great, and Charlene actually learned how to make gravy.”

She giggled — well, a drug-induced snicker, actually. She had to admit the dinner went well. The family had survived. Next year Jo would have the dinner and she would help.

Joey rolled on his side to face her. “The family enjoyed the evening, even your mother.”

“She did, didn’t she? Yet I feel I let the family down this year.”

He tenderly pulled her close, lightly touching his lips to the top of her hair. “You’re the evening star of all our lives — you know that, don’t you?”

She nodded, fighting back tears.

They lay holding each other, sharing the physical and spiritual intimacy that God grants a man and wife, two made as one, listening to the wind rattle the roof shingles. Rose finally broached the subject uppermost in her mind, trying to ease into the topic gently.

“What did you think of Nick Chalmers?”

“Good kid. Well mannered. Your mother liked him.

Nick sat next to her at dinner and encouraged her to talk about Christmas when she was a girl. She actually mellowed toward the end — even had a few interesting stories.”

“I missed that. Jo and Jamie were keeping me occupied at my end of the table. Did she tell any new stories?”

“No, only new versions.”

Rose’s thoughts returned to Nick and Anna. Her daughter had pulled a fast one, inviting him to dinner after she had been told in no uncertain terms not to invite him. No matter how charming Nick Chalmers was, she didn’t trust a boy who wore a ponytail, an earring, and ripped jeans that hung below the waist. He was entirely too brash, overconfident, and had too many raging hormones to suit her. She still didn’t want this near-man dating her daughter. Why couldn’t Anna settle for someone more like her father —sweet, kind, generous, with short, neatly cropped hair?

A memory of Joey at Nick’s age surfaced. He’d been bad in his own right, and she’d fallen hard. Had her mother felt the same uncertainty, this rash of worry when her daughter had fallen for the bold, outspoken kid she’d met at church?

Of course, the circumstances had been entirely different. She had been mature for her age. Anna was still a child.

“The kid’s okay,” Joey said. “Give him a chance.”

“Have you seen his pickup?”

“Pickup, honey? That’s not a ‘pickup,’ that’s a sweet machine! The kid has initiative. He told me tonight that he worked summers for a car, had twenty-five hundred saved when he heard about an Internet site where you bid on government vehicles. He picked up an ’86 one-ton Chevy 4x4 with a Dana 60 front axle and a TH400 automatic transmission for under twenty-five hundred. Can you believe that?”

“Dana 60 front axle, huh?” She had no inkling what he was talking about.

“Yeah, Nick gave me the website where he found it.”

“Don’t get any nutty ideas. We’re not buying one.”

He kissed her again. “You’d look good tooling around in a Hummer.”

“As long as you’re talking about birds, we’re fine. If you’re talking about those army tanks, forget it.”

Chuckling, he gently massaged her back. “You won’t find a Hummer on the site, but you never know what you might pick up. I’m going to check it out.”

She realized this was the most time they’d spent talking in months. The nearness was nice, special.

Joey switched subjects. “Charlene seems like a nice kid.”

“Our sister-in-law is not a kid. She’s twenty-three and a married woman. It’s time she settled down and had her share of family dinners.”

“I think Eddy likes her exactly the way she is.”

“Of course he does. He’s too young to know better.”

“Too much in love,” Joey corrected. “The way we used to be.”

“Used to be?” She stirred. “I thought we still were.”

“We are, but not that crazy, wild, impetuous love.” Joey rubbed the knotted tendons in her neck. “We’re older now, more experienced.”

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