Christmas was Gran’s time. We gave our wish lists to her. She shopped and bought the presents. She did all the wrapping. She made all the food. Papaw sat back and watched it all—and sometimes groused about how much it cost.

No longer was I swimming in the doldrums, I was smiling with my face and my heart. Despite my grief and loss, a group of children reminded of my very real joy.

t’s really what Christmas is all about, isn’t it? Incarnation. The God of the Universe putting on skin and becoming human so he could be with us.

At first he wasn’t thrilled about shopping for other teens with their list in hand for things that he also wanted. But as we strode in the aisles at the first store, his posture began to change and he became more interactive.

I couldn’t wait to go to Mammaw’s house and show off the new, “sophisticated,” 6th-grade Heather. I was shocked when Daddy said, “Why don’t we stay here and celebrate, just the 4 of us?”

Much like the joy of seeing our own children squeal with delight over getting that one present they asked for on Christmas morning, can you imagine the joy it brings to the Lord when His beloved children accept His Son, Jesus, as their Lord and Savior?

She didn’t fuss about lack of money, or that I should be glad to have what other children would love to have. Instead she told me about being made new.

I, too, waited for my first child, Daniel, to be born in December. In fact, I waited my whole life for him.