Episodic Christmas Memory by Connie Inglis

It began in October--not Christmas but the series of events that made the Christmas memorable.

It began with a phone call from his girlfriend. "Your son is in the hospital," she said. "He is fine," she said. Only he wasn't fine; he was ill--not with a physical illness per se but with a brain illness or, if you need the common term, a mental disorder and all the stigma that goes with it. Like good, loving parents, we intervened. This meant a 1,300 km plane and road trip but it was the only thing we knew to do. For my husband and I, we knew nothing about this type of illness. With each question we seemed to fall deeper into a pit of research with no answers, uncertainties with still more questions and little guidance for us to help our son climb up and out.

That was episode 1. Then came episodes 2 and 3 within a span of two months. Our son was hospitalized after both of these in two different cities far from our home.  So, while most of the world was decorating trees, baking cookies and shopping for gifts, my husband and I were driving to and from the hospital, touching base with the doctors and nurses, seeking guidance from anyone with knowledge about our son's illness. For someone who loves Christmas and everything that goes with it, I struggled just with getting through the day and its challenges; I had no energy to think about all the extra festivities.

However, through these dark days GOD showed up. Just like He did over 2000 years ago in the form of a helpless baby, He came down and touched my life, touched our lives. At one point I ran out of words to pray and I just had to surrender and say, "Okay, God. I don't know how to pray anymore. I can't. I am now relying on the prayers of others to get us through this." That was assuring for me. I knew many, many people were praying. I saw it in the timing and moving of events and circumstances. I saw it in the kindness of nurses and doctors to our son and to us. I saw it in people of God who gave us a place to stay when we had no place. And I saw it in words--words He gave me to be able to journal the journey--words He gave me to transfer my pain into poetry. It was a beautiful release. God came down to me. WOW. Isn't that exactly what Christmas is all about?

We did get home before Christmas which was another answer to prayer. But I cannot answer the question, "How was your Christmas?" You see, this Christmas memory has yet to unfold because these events are happening right now, this Christmas. I do know, however, that it will be a simpler Christmas--where the exchange of hugs and laughter will matter more than the exchange of gifts. I'm looking forward to it. And today I'm going to decorate my tree!