What Were You Doing Christmas Eve?

Lying in bed on the morning of Christmas Eve reading my devotions, I found myself with tears in my eyes and running down my face because my mind wandered to what the day would hold. I knew there would be joy as we were able to spend time with part of our family … but there would be sorrow also because we miss Mark, and our oldest daughter. On days like that it’s sometimes hard not to let my mind go back to the times when the kids were little and we hadn’t yet experienced the challenges and traumas that have happened in the last four years. Thinking about that brought up the question of what this Christmas Eve would bring. What emotions would flood over me? And how would I deal with each one? It was then that I once again experienced what I can only describe as an impression expressed in words …

What was it like in Heaven on that first Christmas Eve?

There’s the Father, watching as Mary’s pregnancy comes to term and she gives birth to his son. And a long-awaited promise comes to fulfillment.

Did the angels practice before they came to the shepherds in the field, overpowering them with a full heavenly choir?

Who was in charge of making sure the star was exactly where it needed to be?

Were there gasps of surprise, “ooos” of wonder, or “ahhhs” of adoration drawn from the heavenly host as they saw what was happening in that Bethlehem stable and gazed for the first time upon Jesus embodied in a tiny human infant?

And what is it like now as the Father, Son and Spirit watch each human on earth arrive at the culmination of another Christmas season? Does their joy in creation and those who believe overcome the disappointment of hopes unfulfilled through our own stubborn desire to go our own way?

What about our “huge crowd of witnesses” mentioned in Hebrews 12:1? Do they see the joy we have in the little ones, the amazement we feel at the “tiny” miracles that happen as we are kind and thoughtful to each other? And do they smile along with us? Do you think they also recognize the sadness that flows over and through us as we face disappointments in each other or ourselves?

How would they react to the melancholy or grief we experience as we find ourselves missing loved ones … both those who are still here but absent from us, and those who have gone before us?

I know those are a lot of questions … and I understand there won’t be many, if any, answers this side of eternity. But sometimes it helps me to make an attempt at picturing what is going on in a dimension that is admittedly far, far beyond my comprehension. And yes, I cling to the hope that God just might answer one or two of them, if only because I took the time not only to ponder – but to ask.