We do not know what 2022 will bring, hopefully not a repeat of 2020, but we do know that God goes before us, beside us and behind us. Our trust is not that the road may be smooth, but that God will never leave us or forsake us.
In that vein, we share some of our Christmas memories and Christmas wishes for our CWD family.
A Christmas to Cherish - Kirsten Hart
Christmas of 2016
Over the years, as my cousins and I have grown up, gone to uni, travelled interstate and started families of our own, that table has gotten smaller. While most of my cousins are married and some have children, a lot of us can’t get together for Christmas dinner like we used to and some of our family have passed away.
One of the last Christmas dinners I’ve had with the family was back in 2016. We are all a bit crazy as you can see in the photo. Full of, well, food by this time. I don’t get to see much of these amazing people since moving to Queensland and with the current circumstances, but the memories and photos remind me of the fun we had during those precious moments.
Take time to Connect
Take time this Christmas to connect with family and friends. We as writers tend to spend a lot of time by ourselves. Even with the lifting of restrictions, some of us still don’t have the ability to see family this Christmas. Take Christmas off from writing. Don’t write a word and make memories with those you love. This is a moment to cherish.
The Blessing of Connection – Mazzy Adams
The Christmas of 1999
For me, 1999 was a year of unexpected opportunities, a clear highlight being a three-month outreach trek with Wheels of Fire Ministries, travelling from Toowoomba to Uluru to Darwin to Broome and back again with many stops and detours along the way. Thirteen thousand kilometres in an aging Toyota Coaster (top speed 70kph downhill with a tail wind pushing the luggage trailer), sleeping in church halls, on school room floors, in tents (including the huge Tent of Promise marquee), or on a tarpaulin under the stars of a glorious outback sky.
It was a wonderful time
of connection and reconciliation with Indigenous and non-indigenous Australians
from all over. My three children proved themselves capable thespians,
puppeteers, musicians and singer, clowns, and communicators. I learned how to make
puppets, paint faces on a plethora of eager children, accept instant mashed
potato powder as a legitimate food source, and pray without ceasing. To my
absolute joy, my youngest, (who was nine at the time) gave her heart to the
Lord on that trip.
That Christmas, as they had done in previous years, my children volunteered for a huge combined churches event entailing three weeks at a nightly Christmas lights display in our city’s heart as live performers, portraying ‘Christmas, the Full Story’ in a series of interactive vignettes—another valuable opportunity to connect with our local community and share the love of Christ abroad. A few weeks later, we learned our eldest son had met a very special young lady at that event who, to our delight, would later join our family as his wife. Another truly blessed connection.
A Christmas Blessing
Christmas is the ultimate celebration of connectedness
because Jesus, Immanuel, God with us, chose to leave His heavenly home and trek
Earth’s ground, unleashing His matchless, superlative message of love and hope
for everyone. Through faith in Him, we can connect with our Heavenly Father and
His whole family of believers world-wide.
Mazzy Adams - Author, Genre Rebel. Intrigue and Inspiration with an Upmarket DownUnder Vibe
A contented Aussie wife, mother, grandmother, business
manager, creative and academic writing tutor, and encourager, Mazzy maintains
her passion for words, pictures, and the positive potential in people.
Website: www.mazzyadams.com Email: maz@mazzyadams.com
A Faraway Christmas - Jeanette O'Hagan
Christmas far far away and a long time ago
We arrived in Zambia just as I turned ten. When we first arrived our family attended the local Baptist church, mostly attended by expats and whites who became uncomfortable when my parents invited our neighbours, all local Zambians, along to the service. Keen to have a church where locals were welcome, my parents teamed up with a Southern Baptist missionaries, founding the Kitwe Baptist Church. Often on a Sunday, Dad would cram the seven of us in the station wagon and as many of the neighbours he could fit in, doubling and sometimes tripling the seating and filling the area behind the seats with as many young people as would fit.
Christmas in Zambia meant daily thunderstorms, long summer holidays and days of exploration and adventure. One year Mum took us to buy a real pine tree which we placed in a red tin bucket and decked with tinsel. We made decorations out of crepe paper. Mum baked Christmas cake, plum pudding with foil wrapped ngwe (coins), perfect home made custard and baked dinner while the Bwelpe family next door got a whole pig (and not a small one) to cook for their Christmas dinner. Wrapped presents appeared under the tree and on Christmas morning a pillow full of small gifts and yummy treats appeared at the bottom of our beds. Then there was the Christmas day service. And always a nativity scene plus a Christmas play, as the baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the shepherds, and wise men played by my siblings, myself, the Moss kids and our young Zambian neighbours. Mum and Mrs Moss wrote and directed the play, fashioning costumes out of sheets and tea towels, and finding props and choosing Christmas carols to sing - Away in the Manager, Silent Night, While Shepherds Watched, Gloria in Excelsia, and my favourite, We Three Kings of Orient are.
Christmas celebrations, I find, change as our family and circumstances change. As a child, Christmases seemed big, even when we didn't travel to spend them with uncles, aunts and cousins. Then, as we grew up and scattered out across the miles, they shrank. Then kids came along, and the noisy, food-laden and present-filled merriment expanded again. Now, as our kids grow older, and our parents grow old and frail, and, in the case of my dad & mother-in-law, get promoted to heaven, Christmases are shrinking again, perhaps sooner than I expected. It's easy to become nostalgic, to mourn the Christmases past.
Yet I'm reminded, that despite the shepherds and angels and despite the visit of the magi (probably some months later), the first Christmas was simple affair. A young couple, a baby, a makeshift space to stay far from home and, perhaps family. With or without the trappings, Christmas is a lit flame in the dark, a spark of hope, and the first step on the road to Golgotha. And because of that baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, we never need be truly alone again,
A Christmas prayer
Whatever your circumstances, however you plan to celebrate Christmas this year, I pray that you may know the true joy of Christmas, the peace of His presence, the blessings of giving as well as receiving, the message and promise of hope. And I pray that you will be truly blessed in both the connections you have with those around you - family, friends, strangers - and in your writing.
Jeanette
Jeanette spun tales in the world of Nardva from the age of eight. Her Nardvan stories span continents, millennia and cultures. Some involve shapeshifters and magic. Others include space stations and cyborgs. Jeanette lives in Brisbane with her husband and children.
Lovely reminiscences and thoughts from all of you--thank you for sharing. God bless.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jo-Anne :)
DeleteThanks Jo-Anne. I trust you've enjoyed a blessed Christmas.
DeleteGreat to read, thanks all. Mazzy - again - wasn't Uluru in 1999 wonderful! A highlight in my life. Happy Christmas and thanks to you all.
ReplyDeleteThanks Jeanette. Such an amazing time as hearts came together as one in the heart of Australia. It was a remarkable season where God moved people around and across our continent creating life-changing encounters and connections. I trust your Christmas was also very special.
DeleteThanks, Jeanette :)
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing these stories. Made me think again about the wonderful memories our parents and an aunt created for my two sisters snd me as children. My aunt died when I was eleven, but more lovely memories were created in different situations. In one church we had a Zambian family, Jeanette! The father was sent by his government to study his Masters in Town Planning at U. of Q. campus at Gatton. They attended our church and we used to have them come to us for either lunch or dinner on Christmas Day. They had four children, the eldest being the same age as our youngest. We have had a number of people of other nationalities share Christmas with us over the years.
ReplyDelete