All I Want For Christmas is My Three Front Teeth

Merry Christmas

The last apron has been washed, dried and folded, kettle locks all removed, all of the pointsettias picked up and traveled home, jingle bells and extra toys all organized away, UW proposals prepared and delivered, gifts given, cookies prepared and shared - whew, what a season! A marvelous Advent season, in the presence of our LORD, and yet the other side of the same coin has been some very tense communication. This season has included many experiences that have just felt like they haven't been completely in synch, like an unannounced tug of war or an unexpected struggle that doesn't have complete resolution. A little bit like the board game Mousetrap that isn't exactly spaced right so even though all the parts in the chain reaction activate, the final piece, the basket doesn't descend to capture the rodent waiting in the space at the bottom.

Some days were filled with sunshine and glory and others I just felt like a great big Christmas grouch.

I am convicted of the reality that me and my family are very blessed - we are healthy, cared for, fed and protected in shelter, encouraged towards the pursuit of education and love, out of threat and danger. This little black rain cloud that has returned on different days has not been welcome or understood, and then without explanation simply floats away. Somethings were quite funny, others not so much, and many of them dealt with the dentist.

:K. has adopted a new Christmas song for herself, because of her dental experience. "All I want for Christmas is my three front teeth..." K. had a baby tooth in the front space which wouldn't release even though the adult tooth was coming in plain and clear. When arranging a dental visit in July for its extraction (so it wouldn't affect the shape and placement of her grown-up smile) the dentist simply smiled and said so confidently, "I won't need to pull it, its ready to come out any day now. You'll probably lose it at the beach." So not listening to mom, this dentist convinced my baby that all she needed was an apple and a little tongue wiggling and she would be waiting for a visit from the tooth fairy. Ooh, nothing frosts my cupcakes like being ignored! So...18 weeks later there is still a baby tooth, an adult tooth behind it longer than the tooth in front of it and a very frustrated mother who is getting more frustrated as the evening ritual has included a dramatic, forceful tooth wiggling every night in this little mouth. Another visit, in December, this time for a cleaning for everyone and the dentist's look of surprise and embarrassment to recognize that squirrelly tooth still there. I insisted on its extraction again, very insistent this time about its date...it will make all the difference. My family has met the insurance deductible for the year, and all coverage will be 100% until 12/31. What could have been a few weeks wait all of a sudden became a 6 day turn-around and K. finally got that tooth pulled. She was resembling a shark for a while, with a second row for teeth, "her three front teeth" - can you imagine?!.

:there were 52 people in church on Sunday! Passing out the last songbook from the shelf and making room for more coats were encouraging signs of sacred activity. I don't know how many of these people are going to stay with the congregation but they have included worship with us within their spiritual journey. Sure, many were there because of their annual Christmas service with mom and for a chance at a present or two and a light meal, but their presence was welcome regardless of the personal agenda. A son home from a successful boot camp requested the prayer of safety, and his mother found within that simple request the answer to her decade-long prayer for his quest for God. It was a gift from God, given without wrapping and bows.

:there is no manual to help advise or guide a child through the journey of parental divorce and dating. Even though I am 40, my mother having a boyfriend, now fiance, has stirred up unexpected feelings which aren't really anger, and aren't truly hurt, and aren't fully rational. They are just weird, plain and simple. Hearing her conversations with these new people, these new "family?" have a skewed perspective I do not appreciate or understand. My children are aware of the differences of her "stories" and are curious what they are supposed to do. So am I.

:it was 3:45 a.m. when TANK was stirring on Christmas morning...3:45 a.m.

:N. and A. both need braces and had an orthodontic visit which begins the process for the 2 of them. We have a small portfolio with some amazing pictures and structural placement of their teeth - truly cool stuff - but my mind is spinning at the thought of impending orthodontia. Their appointment was scheduled right before A. piano lesson and she just cried her whole way through her 1/2 hour with her teacher. She was so upset thinking she had done something wrong to make her mouth need braces...my poor little sweetie.

:I do not respond to bellowing or finger snapping when someone is trying to get my attention. If I'm in another room, please wait till I return or come find me. Standing still and bellowing will be a lonely, public yelling experience for you if you want to capture my attention...I will not come for a bellowing yell. I will never do it to someone else and I will never promote it as acceptable communication towards people I respect. I don't even do it to pets, intending to capture their attention by speaking their name. A pet deserves the dignity and grace of someone using their name, and so does a person. And so do I. Forgot my name, I accept "dear" "love" "honey" or "Captain" but never "hey you." So as one of my volunteers who was counting kettle money, like he had everyday for the entire Christmas season was snapping his insistent fingers, my natural reaction was saying in my mind, "I know he isn't talking to me. He must be talking to someone else." His actions then began including a "hey" and "hey you" and then a bellowing "hey you there" with that snapping, agitated movement when I was still completing the 10,000 things I had to do that morning and had to leave the room. I came back about 2 minutes later, still unaware he had been trying to tell me something until I saw his beet red face. "Hey you" he snapped and bellowed again, and to his frustration, someone else exclaimed, "Oh were you talking to Jessie?" "I didn't know all that was for me, " I exclaimed. "I don't respond to snapping and bellowing, never have, never will. But I'll get what you need..." and I swear, the women in the room sat up a little straighter, a little prouder and little more dignified. They have obviously been the recipient of the snapping "hey you", and it is so avoidable. I must insist that the communication around our tables must have layers of grace and dignity intertwined through the words and intentions.

And that is all I have to say about that.