Home for Christmas, page 24
“That’s how God works.” Lulu took a bite of her swoon pie followed by a long sip of her hot chocolate.
Biting the side of her mouth, Harper counted to ten, watching each movement of Lulu’s face anticipating the rest of the story, but her mentor simply savored her treats. “Umm, Mrs. Penhearst…”
“Lulu.”
Harper nodded. “Yep, umm, just curious, what do you mean that’s how God works?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Harper wanted to shout “No!” but simply shook her head.
“None of us deserve His gifts. Not the gift of you and Ben finding each other or your new job, and most assuredly not the gift of salvation we have been given through His Son. But He gives them anyway, because He loves us. And, in turn, we should accept His gifts gratefully and graciously, celebrating them in His honor and with Him. Just as we get to celebrate the gift of His Son tonight at church, if my niece ever decides she is finally put together enough.”
“Subtle, Aunt Lulu. And I’m ready,” Darcy said on a sigh from the doorway.
“Well, it’s about time. All the good seats will be taken.”
“Aren’t all the seats good at church? Isn’t that the point?”
“Saucy. Darcy darling, you must remember you are now the pastor’s love interest. The whole town will be watching you.”
“Don’t I know it.” Darcy shook her head and glanced down at her dark green A-line sweater dress. “Will I pass muster?”
“Finn will have a hard time focusing on the sermon.”
Harper listened to great-niece and aunt as Darcy pushed Lulu toward the door, but their words were muted against Lulu’s simple message echoing through her mind.
None of us deserve His gifts.
Lulu was right. Harper knew she was right. She had known her whole life she couldn’t do anything to earn God’s gifts, and if she couldn’t earn His gifts, she certainly couldn’t demand to know why He was blessing her. He was blessing her because He loved her.
“Hey?” Ben said in a low whisper in her ear. “Where’d you go?”
She lifted her hazy gaze to him. “Nowhere. Just realized something.”
He kissed her forehead. “And what’s that?”
“Jesus loves me.”
“The Bible told you so?”
“Lulu.”
“An original LAS member. So, basically the same.”
Harper chuckled. “Don’t let your sister’s boyfriend hear you talk like that.”
A thick vee formed between Ben’s eyebrows. “I’m not sure I will get used to my sister being the pastor’s old lady.”
“What about him being your brother-in-law?”
A visible shiver ran through his body. “Ugh. I cannot think about my sister as a wife.”
“OK, big guy. Let’s just get through your sister mooning at the pastor during Jesus’s big night.”
“And then I get to dance with you?”
“All night.” She stretched as tall as her toes would allow her and kissed his cheek.
“Merry Christmas to me.”
63
Finn tugged at his clerical collar as he listened to the choir’s slightly off beat, but spirit-filled rendition of O, Holy Night. The words of his Christmas meditation swirled through his mind as the song lifted and lilted through the sanctuary.
When Uncle Tom asked him to give the message, Finn was more than surprised and a little excited. Although each time he preached, Finn was a bit overwhelmed with the honor of being a conduit of God’s message, Christmas Eve was different. It was so much bigger than a Sunday morning in September. The pews were stuffed full of congregants who only popped in once or twice a year. The pressure was heavier. The expectations were higher. The stage on which to fail in a two-stoplight town was as big as…well the finals of the NCAA tournament. And he had already failed on that platform, as his father mercilessly reminded him. So why wouldn’t he fail with a simple Christmas meditation?
Although his body remained focused on the choir, he stealthily scanned the congregation, trying to stifle the endless scenarios of failure his mind conjured. His gaze slid over each of the non-choir LAS members sitting with their extended families. Bitsy and Henry Grey sat tall in the second row with two of their three daughters and three grandchildren. Just behind them sat Nancy Jessup and her six children, four in-laws, soon to be five, including his cousin Tessa, and countless grandchildren who spilled over two pews, the second including Harper, Ben, Lulu, and Darcy. Having glimpsed her enter the back of the church, he should have been prepared. But even years of disciplined training, both physical and mental, could not fully ready him for the effect of seeing his beautiful Darcy. Clamping his jaw against the rather un-masculine Victorian-era sigh ready to seep through his body at the sight of her did little to stifle the rush of heated energy zipping through his frame.
He’d known the moment she walked into the sanctuary. The air was electric with her presence and their new commitment to each other. The past few years had been the truest definition of mixed blessings. His walk with the Lord had strengthened with each day, but every step led him into a more isolated bubble until two weeks ago. Finn could barely comprehend how much had transpired in the past handful of days. And yet he knew without any fear or regret that all his future steps would be taken with Darcy and Jesus, side-by-side.
The choir sang the final chorus, pulling his focus back to the present. He sucked in a deep breath and released a slow steady sigh as he closed the few steps to the pulpit. “Thank you, Sally, and our wonderful choir for preparing our hearts for this evening’s meditation. Will you pray with me?
“Father God, we thank You for this special evening where we celebrate the coming of Your Son to this place for the reconciliation of our sin. Help us to keep our focus on You in the coming hours, days, and weeks beyond as we celebrate the joy of Christmas and anticipate the salvation of Easter. May Your message flow in and through the words of this meditation. In Your precious Son’s name. Amen.”
Finn swallowed as all three hundred pairs of eyes simultaneously homed in on him. Here we go.
“I have heard my Uncle Tom give the Christmas Eve meditation a dozen or more times in my life. When I was young, I would sit between my parents counting down the seconds until I could rush home and set out cookies for Santa. Sorry to say, Uncle Tom, I can’t remember many of those sentiments. Last year, I sat beside Uncle Tom as he recuperated at home and we listened to Reverend Conrad give the Christmas Eve message via live stream.
“So often Christmas is about the traditions. Coming to Christmas Eve service. Hanging stockings or setting out cookies. And though the traditions are good, we must be cautious to not allow tradition to overshadow the why of Christmas or the why of each of our lives.
“We each have a why from God. Some say it is a calling. Others call it a gift. But I think of it as a why.
“Too often in life, we can become consumed with the traditions of our families or the world’s traditions. We can miss the why that God has placed on each of our lives. But if we are truly living into God’s why, we have no choice but to buck tradition, to go against what the world is telling us is sensible or right, and to step into His why.
“The why God has given you, may seem murky or unclear, but it is there. Your why is not that different from the Christmas story. Think about the suddenness with which the shepherds learned their why. For the shepherds their why came with the booming chorus of angels. But for Joseph, he tried to turn away from his why.
“Who can forget that upright Joseph was planning on divorcing Mary? Joseph wanted to stick with tradition. But God was calling him to a bigger why. To be the earthly father of the Savior of the world. What would have happened if Joseph had turned his back on God’s why in his life?
“Are you allowing the traditions of the world to keep you from your God-called why? Are you choosing to turn your back on God’s gift in order to safely do what is expected of you? To live your life based on your family’s or the world’s traditions?
“Why not take this Christmas season to ask God to show you your why. And, maybe, by Easter you will be proudly shouting your why to the world. Amen.”
Finn closed his notebook and moved to the empty front pew as Uncle Tom moved to the center of the dais.
“Thank you, Pastor Finn. I know it has been my privilege to see you embracing your why each and every day as you serve God by ministering to this church and community.”
Tom opened his Bible as the sanctuary lights grew dim and all the candles, except the center Christ candle on the advent wreath were snuffed. Using a handheld candle, Tom lit the long taper from the Christ Candle. “‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’ Jesus truly is the light of the world and from His single light we can offer hope, grace, and love to the world.”
The ushers came forward, lighting similar tapers from the Christ candle. They moved deliberately through the sanctuary as an ethereal wave of light grew throughout the congregation.
“When we share Christ, not just share Christmas, but truly share Christ, the world will be lit from the inside out. Let us join together in Silent Night.”
Finn desperately wanted to turn around and see the glowing faces of the worshippers, but he could feel the joy and love whispered and bellowed with each beloved word of the hymn.
He had always loved Christmas, but this year doing what he was called to do and falling in love with the most unexpected woman, he couldn’t imagine a sweeter gift. He had found his whys. Pastoring this church and loving Darcy. God was so very good with His gifts. The only darkness was he couldn’t share it with his parents. But God worked miracles and maybe one day they would understand and embrace what God was asking of him.
“Please look around,” Tom said. “When you find yourself wondering where God is calling you or what your why is, know your ultimate why is to be His light. And know you are reflecting the light of the world Who so graciously came to us save all. But that’s a sermon for a few months from now.”
The congregation chuckled as the choir director lifted her hand to repeat the final verse one more time. The singing wasn’t harmonious or heavenly, but to Finn, each breath of song filled his soul to near bursting with hope.
Tom nodded to the congregation. “Thank you all. We now come to the part I hate. I would love to hold this beautiful moment a bit longer, but the world cannot know of the love of Christ if we all remain on the mountaintop in this room, and I rather think our fire chief would be none too pleased with me either.
“Please extinguish your candles and know the true Light of the world lives in each of you. Go from this place knowing you are God’s why. Merry Christmas.”
Finn extinguished his candle as he moved to the side door exit to greet people. His stomach twisted in a tight knot as Sissy Jenkins stomp toward him. Up until this exact moment he was pleased he had not chosen a traditional shepherd-wise men sermon. Now he had to face Sissy and his choice seemed less than wise.
“What were you thinking, Finnegan?” Sissy asked as she blocked the exit for the other parishioners.
“Do you mean the meditation?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
He glanced at the growing line and bent forward to whisper in Sissy’s ear. “Perhaps we can discuss your disdain at the Christmas dance?”
Sissy grabbed Finn’s face and pulled him to her eye level, “Listen here. I will only say this once because I don’t like to repeat myself.”
Finn nodded, saying a silent prayer direct eye contact with an angry Sissy wouldn’t result in spontaneous combustion or firing.
“That was by far the best most poignant Christmas sermon I have heard in…well, too many years to discuss in polite company. Well, done, Pastor Finn. Merry Christmas.” She patted his cheek before pushing through the clusters of congregants slowly exiting.
“Did that just happen?” he whispered.
“I think it did, and I couldn’t agree more, Pastor Finn.”
Finn whipped his head to the left at the sound of his father’s voice. “Dad? What…what are you doing here?”
His parents, his mom and his dad, moved toward the life-size Nativity scene set up in the back alcove. With a nod to the long line of parishioners waiting to give him a Christmas greeting, Finn followed.
“Don’t get me wrong I’m thrilled you are here, but why?”
Mom started to rattle off a dozen different reasons from Tessa’s bridal shower to the traditional Christmas morning brunch, none of which gave Finn the grounding for what motivated Dad to fold his pride in his pocket and attend tonight’s service.
“Viv, let me try,” Dad said.
If Finn was still a betting man, he would have placed big money on Mom’s tears being held back by nothing more than the decade of fillers she had been using to erase her laugh lines. And Dad…well, for the first time in Finn’s memory his dad’s eyes held a glistening sheen.
“Tom came to my office today.”
Finn felt his back stiffen. Of course, his parents were only here because Uncle Tom intervened.
“So, you’re here because of Uncle Tom?”
Mom opened her mouth just as Dad raised his hand. “I’ve got this Viv. Yes. We’re partially here because of my brother, but we’re here primarily because last night was the worst version of all of us and we need to reconcile. Tom gave us the push but we made the decision.
“I know we…I haven’t been very supportive of this pastoring thing. I’ve struggled with my expectations for your life with your choices. It’s hard to let go of not just one but two dreams for your only son. It was easier to be angry with you and try to manipulate you to conforming to what I wanted rather than let go and listen to what you felt you had to do. We thought if we waited long enough this would just be a phase and you would get over it.”
“More than a phase, Dad. It’s not like when I wanted a tattoo in the seventh grade or decided my favorite food was pickles. Ministry is my calling from God.”
Pursing his lips, he nodded. “Your ‘why.’”
“You listened.”
“Not just tonight. Each time you preached Tom has sent us a recording. You have quite a talent for saying what needs to be said with word economy. Something more pastors could learn.”
His parents listened to him preach? How was that even possible? Why would they have wanted to hear the messages?
Finn barely registered his mother’s fluttery words as she quoted from a sermon he gave in May the weekend after his cousin became engaged.
“Love given is love well used.’ I knew at that moment hope wasn’t lost for us. For our family.” Mom didn’t even try to stop the black streaks stretching wide paths over her perfectly fashioned face. “I had to believe there was hope you could love us again.”
“I never stopped loving you. I just can’t be who you want me to be. And I won’t be sorry.”
“Son,” his dad’s voice splintered as he reached his hand forward. “I’m sorry. We don’t want you to be anyone but you. Can you forgive us…me?”
Mom’s and Dad’s faces blurred as his chest tightened. Was he hallucinating? His parents were apologizing to him…asking for his forgiveness.
“We love you so much, Finn.” Mom linked her arm through Dad’s. “We are so proud of you…”
Finn wrapped his arms around his parents. “I love you, too.” His parents shook in his embrace. The part of Finn who would always be a five-year-old seeking his parents’ love and acceptance wanted to stand in this circle forever, but the adult Finn knew he had responsibilities. Christmas Eve was Christmas Eve and he was a pastor.
With a squeeze he turned toward the line of congregants, but only one stood with the glow of the Christmas lights twinkling around her. “Darcy.”
“You want to make some introductions, Pastor?”
“I’m Mike Tarrington, Finn’s father, and you must be…”
“Darcy. Darcy Langston.”
“Dr. Langston,” Mom said. “Or so Tom said.” She snatched Darcy into a full body hug. “I am so happy to meet you.”
“Mom, she might need to breathe.”
“Oh, yes, right. I am just so….” Her voice shook with unshed tears.
“Yes, Viv. I think we all are a little….so,” Dad said.
“The feeling is mutual. Will you be joining us at the dance?” Darcy asked.
His parents looked at him. Weary expectation stretched across their foreheads.
“Will you?”
“Oh, that would be just wonderful. Wouldn’t it, Mike?”
“Yes, dear. I think it would be wonderful.”
They discussed the details and promised to meet at the dance in an hour.
The congregation trickled out of either door leaving the sanctified silence hovering in the empty space of the sanctuary.
His parents came to the service.
They were attending the dance.
They said they were proud of him.
His father, Michael James Tarrington, said he was proud of Finn. The whole evening felt like a dream.
“Ouch! What was that for?” Darcy rubbed her bicep.
“Just seeing if I was dreaming.”
“You are supposed to pinch yourself.” Darcy socked him in the shoulder.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“To prove to you that you aren’t dreaming.”
“Oh, I can think of a much better way.” He tugged her close to him and lowered his lips to hers. Kissing Darcy would never lose appeal. Their lips melted into each other in the softest of dances, swaying and moving to an unheard melody.
Breaking the gentle connection, he rested his forehead on hers. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
God was good.
