No, not that Christmas Miracle.
It was The Christmas Without Stress. Or at least a whole lot less.
The day before was stressful enough, if fun, with a last-minute change of plans that resulted in our spending a full day at Sea World with our guests, followed by a late-night Christmas Eve service and a going-to-bed time of well after midnight. The last's enough to stress me out all by itself. But the service was beautiful and relaxed, because our big Christmas choir event had been Lessons and Carols earlier in the month, and the next morning was peaceful. The youngest child being 20, it was even quiet—and we had a leisurely day with rounds of opening presents punctuated by eating and highlighted by communications with family on two continents. (Skype is God's gift to grandparents who can't be with their grandchildren on Christmas.)
I'm slowly learning to lower the pressure on myself. Christmas cards are appreciated even if they arrive after December 25th. Guests are happy to visit even if the kitchen floor doesn't get mopped until after they arrive. A good meal is not ruined by Pillsbury rolls instead of homemade bread. And if some things don't get done, well, as our choir director—as calm and Christlike a man as I know—often says, "It is what it is." Surprisingly often, that's okay.
Christmas dinner is often stressful, but I'm getting more relaxed about that, too, and this Christmas the kitchen elves pitched in at just right time with just the right help. It didn't hurt that the roast beef came out beautifully, evenly rare.
Labor without perturbation, readiness without hurry, no haste and no hesitation (George MacDonald) is still my goal. The miracle is that this year I came a little closer.
Congratulations!
