Christmas has never been the same since I sang my first John W. Peterson Christmas cantata at the age of thirteen. My love of everything Christmas and celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ exploded.
“…‘I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the
Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David!’” Luke 2:10, 11 nlt
Peterson told the story of Jesus' birth through the lyrics, melodies, and scriptures. Growing up often times playing Mary in the Sunday school program, I knew the story of Christmas, but there are no words to express how I felt stepping out of the church into the cold and snow on Christmas morning after such a life-changing John W. Peterson musical experience.
The lights on the tree twinkled brighter; the shimmer of the tinsel intensified. My love sending and receiving cards became more meaningful. Tears flowed more freely from watching sappy holiday movies or reading of Christmas miracles. The music stirred the depths of my heart.
Celebrating Christmas has always been special. As a little girl, I pushed and prodded my mom to buy a tree—one of those real ones smashed against the grocery store wall. After Dad secured it into the red and green stand, I carefully hung ornaments, and then tossed slivers of silver icicles as high as I could.
When cards and letters from and about people I’d never met came in the mail, I read every word before displaying them around the dining room window.
My big sister’s record player and a few 45-rpm Christmas records were worn from being played them over and over, year after year. Around my twelfth birthday, I received my very own stereo and two Christmas LP’s (33 rpm). I still have them; a few years ago my oldest son copied them on to CD’s…scratches, skips, and all.
These days, I sing, ring bells, dress in costumes, and sometimes dance for our church Broadway style musical; rehearsing from September to November to perform fourteen times. The handmade nativity scene and stable nestled under a house plants reminds me of the first Christmas.
The biggest artificial blue spruce tree my house (and husband) will allow stands adorned with silver icicles accenting old, new, homemade, store-bought, shiny, and dull decorations. Suspended garland enhances the cards displayed on the wall around the windows. Our annual family letter will be tucked within a Christ-centered card for family and friends we haven’t’ seen in years (some my kids have never met). A couple of Christmas miracles books lie next to my chair. I’ll watch “White Christmas” and “It’s a Wonderful Life” soon. And, Christmas music plays in the background throughout the day.
The biggest artificial blue spruce tree my house (and husband) will allow stands adorned with silver icicles accenting old, new, homemade, store-bought, shiny, and dull decorations. Suspended garland enhances the cards displayed on the wall around the windows. Our annual family letter will be tucked within a Christ-centered card for family and friends we haven’t’ seen in years (some my kids have never met). A couple of Christmas miracles books lie next to my chair. I’ll watch “White Christmas” and “It’s a Wonderful Life” soon. And, Christmas music plays in the background throughout the day.
Did I mention that I think “Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year”?
Weather you live where there are white Christmases or not, “may your days be merry and bright.”
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