Songs of the morning

I didn't peek out the window since I would have had to stumble across sleeping bodies in the dark, but as I was washing up in the bathroom, I heard the almost imperceptible strains of  angels singing. I kid you not. It was only 6 am, and no one else was up. Then I heard the unmistakable sounds of piano music rising to accompany the angels' voices. I stopped and listened, knowing that I was being given a gift from God on this beautiful morning.

"I have never heard their voices so unmistakably!" I wondered aloud, "Happy Birthday, Jesus!"
I felt a little like Mary must have felt, being in the undeniable presence of a heavenly being, heralding hope and joy and goodwill to wretched man.

Then I heard the radio announcer break in, and realized Arvo had forgotten to turn off his alarm this morning. I raced out and smacked the off switch before it awoke Asherel, sacked out on an extra mattress in our room while Karissa is here.

There was no snow, not yet. But the day was just begun. The snow was predicted to fall later in the day. I crept about the house, turning on the Christmas lights and setting out stockings. Lucky went outside and began barking. I hurried out to shush him, and saw both Honeybun and he standing alert in the darkness, ears perked, looking at....nothing..... and barking.  I told them to be quiet, and scurried back into the warm house. Again, there was barking. A second time I raced out and warned them to stop. Honeybun, the good dog, followed me back inside. Lucky stood in the middle of the dark yard, expectant, waiting.....
Was he hearing angels too?

As soon as I settled again at the computer, Lucky began barking. I sprang to my feet and this time corralled him, dragged him in, and put him in the crate. My nerves were already frazzled and it was not yet 7 a.m.  A day that I thought had started with the voice of angels was unraveling already.  And I thought about how holidays are supercharged with expectation. They almost never live up to the impossible hopes and dreams of what the day should be...at least not in my superinflated conjurings. (Spell check didn't like either of those last two words!)

How different that is from what really happened on the real Christmas morning, on the morning Jesus was born! Expectations were minimal, conditions were deplorable, and the hope of mankind was smaller than a dog and wearing diapers. The real momentous parts of life all start small.  Patience, love, appreciation for parents and others, bank accounts.....If Mary had any inkling of truly understanding what the angel had told her about her newborn son, my guess is she was not focused on that revelation as she shuddered in the cold and tried to keep the donkey from stepping on her baby. Barking dogs, alarms, and other distractions have a way of intruding upon our promised and hoped for Peace.

I glanced at the walls by the Christmas tree. They glowed pink. Tiptoeing to the door, I peeked out at the sky. It was covered with flaming pink and purple and orange clouds, stretching like Holy Fire across the horizon. The angels were not audible, but the heavens were shouting their welcome.

Merry Christmas!

Luke 2:10-12

¹⁰ But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. ¹¹ Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. ¹² This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”