Roller Skates, Disco Balls and a Birthday Party (A Story of Christmas)

December 20, 2013 | advent, Christmas | 6 comments

It was bedtime, half-past-too-late. And the moon floated high in the velvet December heavens.

A mama snuggled next to her daughter, before bedtime prayers, and she asked the questions --

"Do you remember that year, when you had your birthday party? The one at the roller-skating rink?"

Yeah. The girl remembered. How could she forget?

There were disco balls shimmering overhead, and there were Bieber tunes, amplified too loud -- at least according to every single mama sipping caffeine-free Diet Coke on the edge of the rink, all of them praying their Gumby-like skaters would get tired and just want to go home. Girls were skating giggling circles around that room, and around each other.

Yes. The daughter remembered that party.

The mama had more questions: "Do you remember how you felt left out that year? Do you remember how you were so sad, because this was your birthday party and all the people you invited were skating with someone else? Remember how you felt left out?"

Most obvious question of  the century.

How could a kid forget that kind of thing, when everyone you invited to your party is twirling in pairs in the glittering middle? And your back is against the wall.

The mama could see her daughter's head bobbing her "yes" in the dark.

Then, cuddled under that polka-dot quilt, the mama told why she was asking all these questions.

She reminded her how a birthday party was about to happen. Candles would be lit. Presents with shabby-chic tags would be handed out. Someone would remind someone else that the gift receipt was in the box if the shirt didn't fit right. The ham would be as salty-good as it's ever been. Uncle John would have the grandest story to tell, by fire-light, and everyone would toss their heads back in laughter.

And it would all be wonderful, and sparkling, and shimmering, and you would all know that you had been in the midst of something pure and marvelous and lovely. Because the world is a magical place at Christmastime. As it should be.

Bring on the presents. Pour the fine wine. Set out the china. Enjoy.

But what if the honored guest felt, somehow, left out of His own party? Like a prop on the mantle, as a tiny resin figure in a tiny resin manger?

The mama and her daughter stared into the quiet darkness, thinking a long time about what it's like to be left out of your own party. Then they prayed. They prayed that they wouldn't leave Him out, and that no one else would either.

When they prayed, they knew this for sure: He's the life of the party. And He's come to give life to all the people at the party.

The life of the party holds out this gift: Himself.

And the gift tag? It has your name on it.

"See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands." 
~ Isaiah 49:16

"For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believed in him will not perish but have eternal life."
~ Jesus Christ

 

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by | December 20, 2013 | advent, Christmas | 6 comments

6 Comments

  1. HisFireFly

    yes, yes
    His birthday
    His party
    His glory
    may we never forget

    Reply
  2. Hazel Moon

    What a sweet reminder not to forget who is the Birthday Boy!!

    Reply
  3. Lynn D. Morrissey

    Oh! Tears here, and joy! What a wonderful reminder not to leave out the Birthday Boy…….the God of the universe made flesh for fallen us. Jesus……our present present, God with us, who keeps on giving. God bless you, Jennifer, for this exquisite mama-and-daughter story which points us to the Gift-giver.
    Much love and Merry Christmas! Love to your girls and Scott, too!
    Lynn

    Reply
  4. floyd

    Awesome reminder to make our Savior the focus of our season and lives… as He’s done for us. Beautiful and great analogy, think I’ll remember that. Merry CHRISTmas to you and yours.

    Reply
  5. Lynn D. Morrissey

    Oh Jennifer! I’m so glad in your “extra, extra” sidebar that you linked up to the Gloucester Cathedral Choir singing the gorgeous carol by Gustav Holst, In the Bleak Midwinter. It’s one of my favorites, too, and Christina Rossetti’s poem set to music is heartrending. It’s one of the most beautiful carols imaginable. And, of course, no one can sing like trained British boy choristers. One of the highlights of our trip to England this past summer was hearing the boys choir (actually 18 boys and 6 men) at St. Paul’s Cathedral in London during Evensong. And (amazingly!) I got to sit with them in the qwire and could sing along on the hymn! They invite anyone from the congregation to come up and actually be a part of the worship service. What a thrill!! But just had to thank you for referencing that carol.
    Love
    LYnn

    Reply
  6. Caryn Jenkins Christensen

    An absolutely “hands on”, real-life way to describe the biggest and best Birthday of all. Your daughters are so very, very blessed to have a mama with such wisdom and perspective.

    Reply

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