Christmas is only days away and I have struggled to enter its glorious meaning. My decorations are few, no cookies made, only what was absolute has been done. After a long time in prayer in the Spirit, it ended with the word “Badeshe.” Over and over I heard myself cry this word.

          “What does it mean, Lord,” I asked. “Come with Me,” was His instant response. I pondered what that meant and what it implied, then went on with my reading of the Christmas story in Luke, where the shepherds heard the angel’s announcement. I stopped reading and recited the whole passage, having learned it in grade school as a child. In this translation the shepherds say, “Let’s go, and hurry to find this child and see for ourselves what the Lord has revealed to us.”

          Come with me, echoed again in my heart. Let us go! So, I am coming with them, Lord, putting aside what isn’t, should be, and I wish was. I am kneeling once again at your manger to celebrate afresh Your unspeakable gift.

Unto us a child is born. Unto us a Son is given. Isaiah 9:6


          In the early forties, often laid off, but ever searching for work, every Christmas my dad would take me and my three sisters to the least expensive tree lot and together we’d pick out our fifty cents or one dollar treasure. It would have rivaled Charlie Brown’s tree for least likely to impress, but we were thrilled, it was ours!

           Tired, old decorations were retrieved from the attic, along with strings of silver ‘icicles,’ carefully saved from year to year. We could hardly wait for Dad to finish stringing the lights so we could do our part. Red and green constriction paper strips, cut and pasted into a long chain had been prepared the night before, ready to encircle the tree from top to bottom.

          At last dad finished and the magic moment arrived. He pulled the switch and multicolored lights all came on…for a brief moment. Patiently we waited while Dad found the guilty bulb and the lights stayed on, until the next one fizzled. The aluminum star with battered blue trim went first, then the tarnished balls, many of which had lost much of their color. Assorted sparse ornaments were next, followed by our homemade decorations,

          Snow swirled outside our windows, but we couldn’t wait till dark when dad would again turn on the lights. We loved Christmas and were proud of our tree. One year only socks and new underwear were our gifts. It didn’t matter. We were loved and cared for. It was Christmas and we had a beautiful tree to prove it.