And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Colossians 3:15
“No blizzard is going to ruin my Christmas Eve. I’m driving eight measly miles to my parents’ house.” Those were my thoughts on December 24, 2009. Sure, I watched on TV as hundreds of cars were getting stuck in the snow throughout the OKC metro, but I assumed those people simply weren’t as good at driving as I was. Plus, I thought I had a great car for bad weather: a 2001 Mustang Convertible.
I’ve come to realize that logic tends to take a back seat with me when I’m determined to have fun. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if I had known that 14 inches of snow was going to fall within 24 hours. All I knew was that Mother Nature was no match for my resolve to be home for Christmas.
I bundled up, revved my engine, backed out of my garage and got stuck… in my driveway. My trip lasted four seconds. That night, I was watching one of the Christmas music channels, fuming about my inability to escape my own driveway. Then the song, I’ll Be Home for Christmas, began to play. It was the original 1943 Bing Crosby version, written to honor WWII soldiers overseas who longed to be home at Christmastime. That song’s music is so soothing, my anger quickly dissolved.
Then the lyrics I had heard a thousand times over the years struck a chord with me like never before: “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.”
For the first time in my life, I realized I was living that song. I had never imagined that anything in this world could keep me from being home for Christmas. Like thousands of other Oklahomans, I was stuck, helpless, alone on the most sacred night of the year. I could only dream about being home.
I remember feeling so foolish for thinking I was in control of the situation. That night, I listened to more Christmas songs. I prayed for my family’s safety. I smiled at how special my family made Christmas all my life, and I thanked God for those memories. I also thanked God for sending Jesus Christ, the reason for the season – which I too often forget during the “Christmas rush” of December.
I made it home the next day, thanks to my dad and his Jeep Cherokee. I enjoyed that Christmas Day perhaps more than any other. What a lesson that night was for me – a reminder that I’m not in control. God is. I can let go, and just be grateful. What a relief.
Ed Doney, Staff Writer
