"I'll be home for Christmas..."

Everybody knows everybody including you, your brother, Mama, and cousin twice removed.  If you had an epic fail in high school, count on it being relived 15 years later as if it happened yesterday.  When you walk into a store they know you by name and what you’re coming in for.  Others understand the fact that you’re supposed to be sweet and outgoing but when you take your shoes and earrings off it’s about to go down.  Brunswick stew is a meal by itself…and if you don’t want to piss off all the little old ladies (that you are related to) then you will buy quarts of stew from every fire department and church within a 20 mile radius.  It’s the Courthouse in the square, with bells that still ring on the hour.  It’s freshly plowed fields of red dirt.  In the summer, it’s the smell of tobacco curing in the field.  It’s a gentle breeze with the sounds of crickets at night.  It’s abandoned cotton mills and old train trestles.  It’s a small main street with buildings that haven’t been touched in years.  It’s the muddy Dan River gently curving along on its way from the mountains to the coast.  It’s cows grazing on the side of the hill.  It’s the smell of the wood stove burning on a cool night.  It’s the smell of grass after a hot day and how you can smell the rain coming hours before it arrives.  It’s home.

Something about Christmas time makes me long to go home aka Pelham… a fire department, post office, and 2 miles of road in rural northwestern Caswell County.  I've lived in or around Raleigh for the past 11 years, and in many ways it has become “home” but the beauty and comforts of rural Caswell County and southern Virginia hold a special place in my soul.  Christmas has always been a special time for me and that was initiated in my 17 years of life there.  We would spend days making cookies and homemade ornaments with my granma.  My parents used to prepare breakfast on Christmas Day for my entire immediate family (grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins) and all of the people that live on our street (also family haha).  It was stressful and busy but there was always lots of excitement (like the year my aunt spent the night and got drunk with “Santa”) and laughter.

This year for various reasons I have had a tough time getting in the swing of Christmas.  I have enjoyed my tree, purchased gifts…even took the time to wrap them.  I have planned out a fairly simple but what I expect to be tasty meal for Christmas Day, and have all my baking for the neighbors and other family functions lined up.  I’m going through the motions.  I’m not miserable but I’m not thrilled either, and that’s no way to close out this year.  So I packed up and went to Caswell County for a night seeking some respite and this is what I found.        

These pictures do not do the place justice.  For years, my family has traveled to this small piece of property at the end of the County to look at the Casville Christmas lights.  When we first started going there were very few people that came out but now it attracts visitors from all across the U.S. and there are hundreds of people that come out every night during the holiday season.  The lights are absolutely beautiful but there is an obvious message.  The family that does the lights was a local gospel quartet and they use the lights as a way to share the gospel of Christ with everyone that attends.  I noticed as I looked around that people coming through were not in a hurry.  There was no shouting, crying, or rude behavior.  As I've gotten older a lot of the “magic” of Christmas has faded but it has been replaced with an understanding of what this season is truly about and for that I am thankful.  This understanding has not dimmed my desire to seek out and be surrounded by the people that I love and do things (i.e. give gifts, prepare food, etc.) that express that love.  Rather it has given me a deeper appreciation for the blessings of grace, love and friendship which goes beyond the most expensive, greatest gift ever and yes…even Mama's gravy smothered over some juicy piece of meat.

Yesterday afternoon after I arrived home we received news that Mike’s grandmother had a pretty serious cardiac episode and has been put in the hospital with anticipated triple bypass surgery.  Granma is a spry 87 years old.  If I didn't know better I’d swear she was 60 and probably set to outlive all of us.  She has a love for life and is just as downright country as you can get.  She’s also my fave member of Mike’s immediate family.  She accepted me as her granddaughter from the moment Mike and I were wed without question.  After my own beloved granma died in 2009 she is my only granma left.  Today as I thought about her I decided there are basically 3 kinds of women in my life:  

1.) Girls that I have little desire to be around because they are things I don’t want to be.  Ask me about it sometime.  

2.) Women that I’m growing up with.  These are the chicks that I go to with stupid and / or serious questions.  We celebrate our life victories and deal with the failures.  We are basically raising each other and learning how to be big girls together so that we can become.......

3.) The women I (we) want to be like when I (we) grow up.

There are some overlaps between #2 and #3 and some people that fit best at #1.5.  If you question your number let’s talk about it.  Granma definitely falls into #3.  She tells me stories about the past…always with some kind of cool lesson and she makes the. best. collards, cornbread, and fried chicken you ever laid your lips on.  She fixes a plate of cornbread and a pot of coffee without fail every time I go to visit her.  Selfless and quick to laugh but will you tell you like it is in a minute.  In light of all that has happened with Mike’s family in the past 3 months this news was a serious blow to our already weak hearts. 

This evening as I sat in God’s word I realized that visiting the lights felt good but it didn't dissolve my anxieties.   Running home, however comfortable, is not going to solve my problems or make them go away.  I was reminded of Who I should be seeking to handle these things because I am obviously not doing so well on my own.  I was also reminded that my house whether in Pelham or Wake Forest, is just a location.  Sure, there are some great memories surrounding those places but what makes them so special and sentimental revolves around the people that are there.  I believe home is truthfully where your heart is.  For me that means it’s resting in the Lord and residing with the people I love.  So…whether in heaven, in Caswell County, Wake Forest, across NC, or the southeast I will be home for Christmas.