I love Christmas at my grandparents' home. Sitting by the fire drinking coffee while we open gifts, with a dog curled up at my feet or on my lap, it's a beautiful and cozy part of Christmas tradition. Over the course of my childhood, there have been any numbers of faces at Christmas morning, not all of them family. Any number of neighbors and friends and acquaintances have joined us, really anyone my grandparents heard needed someone to spend Christmas with was welcome. There have been moments, growing up, that I resented it. I like our family, and outsiders felt like intruders. But the older I get, the more I cherish the unrelated faces at Christmas, at Easter, at Thanksgiving, at Sunday dinners. Without saying much outright, my grandparents have lived the Gospel for their children, and now us grandkids, by making it clear that any and all are welcome in the family of God. I see it in the lives of my parents and aunts and uncles - my own parents always taught us that family was as much about who you chose to love as who was related by blood.
People are drawn to my grandparents' home because of the peace found there. Grama and Grandpa's home is a place where there are usually cookies and always a listening ear along with plenty of wisdom. They don't just talk about loving and serving, but exist in it - welcoming family and strangers equally, no matter how many times they've been hurt.
My grandparents live the meaning of Christmas, of peace - welcoming the stranger, embracing them as they would the Christ child. This is their legacy, more than anything, and I cannot be more thankful.
As I finish this project, I wanna say thank you, for sticking with me. Whether you read every day or just this one, thank you for participating in our journey. Nothing about this was what I expected, and I'm really glad God brought me to it.
Until the New Year - grace and peace to you all, and Merry Christmas.
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