Two Christmases

The holidays have a way of bringing up emotions we thought were buried, or to be even more hopeful, completely gone. 

 I moved out last December 16th but I had a plan for dealing with Christmas in the new relational state; I hopped a plane and flew to Los Angeles to spend a week with one of my best friends, Michael, who pastors a church in Visalia.  If you've never traveled on Christmas, you should know that you can get cheap flights on that day.

Michael and I have been friends since high school.  In fact, we were "called" into ministry at the same Iowa District church camp.  After attending both college and seminary together, we moved into our respective ministry positions; Michael a staff position that eventually lead to a couple of different lead pastor roles and (well known if you've read this blog) I moved to Gardner to start a new congregation.  The answer to the question, "who do I go visit when my life falls apart"? was obvious; it's my good friend, Michael.

It was a great week.  Exactly what I needed.  We watched bowl games, went to see Rogue One and  had some late night conversations.  He was okay with me crying a bit as we talked.  I also ate so many fresh oranges from a parishioner's orchard that I got a freakin' infection.

The best part, though was spending a couple of days hiking through the Sierra Nevada mountains. 

It was a good week of healing and reconnecting.

This year, I stayed home, giving me a perfect view of the light snow that fell over KC on Christmas Eve morning.  Dawson was with me the evening of the 23rd till the evening of the 24th.  We opened presents Christmas Eve morning and then worshiped in the incredible candle light service that Rez Downtown does each year.  

All those emotions of the holidays, they came up during that Christmas Eve service.  I just kept running my fingers through Dawson's hair as we sang Christmas carols, letting some happy tears roll down my face.  I wrote here about the Christmas Eve service I experienced at Jacob's Well, after dropping off Dawson, which helped me reflect upon all the healing that had happened during the past year.  I spent that evening doing my regular Christmas Eve tradition of watching the 1954 version of Dickens' A Christmas Carol.  

Christmas Day itself, though was a new tradition for me, I (mostly) spent the day alone.  With Dawson with his mom and my family five hours away, I spent the day packing my apartment in preparation for the move I made two days later.  I was, though able to make Charles Dickens somewhat proud, by spending a few hours with a group from Free Hot Soup KC bringing food to people living in homeless camps around the city.  I found myself wondering the same thing while spending a few hours out in the freezing cold as when watching the scenes in A Christmas Carol, "how do people live outside in this weather?"  I really don't understand how they survive.  It's also hard to explain how an entire homeless population hides in plain sight, in the middle of the city.

I guess I experienced some new realities these past two Christmases.