The best story ever told

As a teacher at a Christian school, one of the perks that I look forward to each week is staff devotions. I coach a vocal club that meets at the same time, so I don't always get to attend but when I do I'm  encouraged in my walk with the Lord. This past week, our Superintendent was discussing the Christmas story and kept referring to it as "the best story ever told." I left staff devotions and went to teach my last few classes before Christmas break, but I couldn't get those words out of my head- the best story ever told.
I have heard the Christmas story so many times. I have read the words, acted out the events in church pagents, heard it at every Christmas celebration growing up and in several school chapels. Sadly, the best story ever told has become all too common to me. For the past two weeks, my constant prayer has been for a fresh look on the Christmas story. I want a new appreciation and awe for the awesome gift of Jesus.
I love how the Lord answers prayers. He is so good. I've been reading Matthew 1-5 and Luke 1-2 every day this week with new eyes. I've been so moved by Zechariah's prophecy in Luke 1. Zechariah was the father to John the Baptist and a priest at the Temple. When Gabriel, an angel of the Lord, told Zechariah that his wife Elizabeth was pregnant, he was full of disbelief. Elizabeth was barren and very old. Gabriel said that the boy was to be called John and would prepare the way for the Lord. Asking for a sign to confirm this prediction, Zechariah was punished for his unbelief. Because he did not believe Gabriel's words, he would be silent until the baby was born.
This part of the story alone is amazing to me. A pregnancy is a LONG, drawn-out, slow-moving process. When I was pregnant with Ainsley, I felt like many months moved at a snail's pace. Imagine being completely unable to speak for the entire nine (really more like ten) months! He couldn't speak to his wife and tell her everything that happened or at least explain why he could no longer speak. Some scholars believe that Zechariah was also deaf during this time as well. All for a lack of faith, something of which I am guilty all too often.
Of course, Elizabeth is pregnant and she does give birth to John the Baptist. The next verses in the story bring to tears. The baby is born and Zechariah is finally able to speak. I've thought through what I would have said after forty weeks of silence. I would explain the whole angel striking me mute story and all of the thoughts I've had over the past months. But, Zechariah didn't say any of that. He praised God and prophesied about the long-awaited Emmanuel. His first words were of praise and gratitude.
"Blessed by the Lord God of Israel,
for he has visited and redeemed his people
and has raised up a horn of salvation for us
in the house of his servant David,
as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
that we should be saved from our enemies
and from the hand of all who hate us;
to show the mercy promised to our fathers
and to remember his holy covenant,
the oath that he swore to our father Abraham, to grant us
that we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies,
might serve him without fear,
in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to his people
in the forgiveness of their sins,
because of the tender mercy of our God,
whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace." Luke 1:67-79
I'm not sure how to read those words and not be completely arrested by the truth they represent. Jesus, the horn of salvation, sent in human form, to pay the penalty for my sins so that I might find a light in my darkness. All this out of his tender mercy and love for his children. Amazing. Humbling. Awesome. 
I love how God answers prayers. It is with fresh eyes and an overwhelmed heart that I celebrate Christmas this year.

Winter Baby

This girl has become so used to her winter hat that she wears it around the house. These were taken by Joanna a few days ago. 

Mama time

Yesterday, my dear friend Joanna gave me the best Christmas present- three hours ALL TO MYSELF!!!!! I went grocery shopping for the Christmas party we're hosting for our small group tonight and still had some time to buy a couple of Christmas presents. I couldn't believe how quickly I could get in and out of the car without the little lady with me. AND to add to the bliss, Jo and her son Sam (her other son Ben took a good winter's nap the whole time) cleaned my house! I was nearly speechless when I came home. The whole place smelled like swiffer! Wood dusted, toys put away, floors cleaned- what a blessing!
As much as I delighted in having some time to myself, the crazy thing was that I missed Ainsley. Goodness, there are days that feel so long at home with her and yet the minute I'm away from Ainsley I miss her sweet face. I miss her crazy laugh she lets out whenever something is really funny. I miss the sound of her blowing rasberries at her stuffed animals. I miss all of her new words- hello, banana, light (granted, none of her words sound exactly like the real thing). I miss watching her sit on the couch reading a book like a big girl. Most of all I miss her stomping over to me and resting her head on my legs until I pick her up for a quick snuggle.
As soon as I walked in the door after my mama-time, Ainsley came from across the room yelling, "Mommy!" and raising her hands with a big smile on her face. Three hours or solo-shopping with a clean house and a sweet baby girl upon returning- my Christmas break is off to a truly wonderful start.

Ainsley's first puppy

Yesterday was a big day in the Smith household. Not only was a trip to Ikea involved, but we added another "member" to our family- a MASSIVE stuffed puppy. To say that Ainsley has an affinity for puppies would be a bit of an understatement. This little lady lights up when she sees anything resembling a puppy (she still has yet to figure out that bears, horses, and the big buffalo at our local park are not puppies). She squeals "puppy, puppy, puppy-dog, puppy!" at the top of her little lungs and then begins barking.
All this to say, when the three Smiths were at Ikea yesterday and the littlest one saw the stuffed animal display, all hope of walking out empty handed was lost. Not only was there a puppy stuffed animal but there were MANY huge puppy dogs for our baby girl. She went to another place for a while there. Her eyes glassed over and the shouts of elation could be heard on all three levels of Ikea. Mercy.

My husband grabbed one of the puppies and gave it Ainsley who proceeded to carry it on her lap for the rest of the trip, quietly whispering "puppy" under her breath. She has dragged that dog all around our apartment, stopping only to cuddle up next to it on the floor.

Tis the season

When Joel and I were first married, I was a bit of a Scrooge when it came to Christmas decorations. Our first apartment housed no Christmas tree, no festive wreaths or snowmen, and played no holiday-celebrating music. I didn't even wrap presents until the day before Christmas Eve.
Enter my mother-in-law. She took me to the most wonderful Christmas shop in her small town and outfitted us with many a Christmas decoration. Not only did she purchase ornaments, but she also bought all of these branches, sparkly leaves, and fancy garland. Armed with my array of decorating goodies, our second Christmas as a married couple was such a HUGE upgrade that I was almost proud of my accomplishments. I took pictures and sent them to my mother-in-law to see the fruits of her labor.
Each year since, I've added little touches to our apartment. We now have a tree, a few snowmen, a second baby tree, and an inkling of a wreath I'm thinking of making. This year making its GRAND entrance is the newest addition to our tree, courtesy of Mom Smith, a Christmas bird. I also have been playing A Very She and Him Christmas on repeat in my car.  Scrooge, no more.

Yet another thing I love about my husband...

When my husband was young, he received some evergreen seeds as a toy in a McDonalds Happy Meal. Others might have thrown the seeds away, but this guy planted those seeds in his backyard and watered them every day faithfully. The tree is now a stately pine, towering over the house. I love this. My husband was a visionary even then.

On Thanksgiving, Joel and I drove by his old house and marveled at the tree. I looked at my husband and felt overwhelmed that I was the blessed woman that got to be his wife. Also, I felt reassured that if we ever need a back-up plan, Joel could make quite the woodsman.

How Ainsley entertains herself in the car...