Asleep on the Hay

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Learn from it; tomorrow is a new day – Ralph Waldo Emerson

My daughter sent a text the other day telling me that she and the family had lost power. Actually, they hadn’t lost it; they’d been disconnected. It seems their landlord had done some electrical work over the summer but had failed to pull a necessary permit or obtain an inspection. Although our daughter and her family have always been current (no pun) with their utility bills, the company (without warning or notice) cut them off (despite their being a “valued” customer).

The property owner was scrambling to do what he could to get power restored, but in the meantime, the family was without heat, lights, or the other basic necessities of life – an issue only exacerbated by it being winter. This is not a time of year one wants to go without heat – no matter who is at fault!

Without hesitation, of course, we had them come over and move in until the situation could be resolved. We enacted our own little Christmas Pageant and made room for Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus (who, in this case, are Andrew, Jennifer, and baby Ameena – along with one of the Wise ones, their son Elijah). The set was complete, including the Innkeeper (played wonderfully well by my wife, Barb), and the requisite donkey (played by yours truly).

The crisis lasted only a day, but it was a delight to have our family together to deal with it. Like those holy refugees of old, they packed up everything they needed and made their way to our place. I had a chance to teach Elijah how to play Solitaire and, when they discovered they’d neglected to pack a bottle for Ameena (who’s almost outgrown them now that she is a year old), Elijah and I trundled off to the nearby grocery to pick one up.

Sadly, Grandpa’s not as up on Nipple technology these days as he should be, so the bottle I chose was fine, but the dispenser needed some delicate surgery to function right. Uff-da! At least I now know we have a Plastic Surgeon in the family, and the rest of the family knows I should be awarded a boobie prize for my shopping skills.

Be that all as it may, everyone survived. Around midnight Ameena alerted the world to a case of sudden dampness. Her momma was soundly asleep, so Barb and I got up to attend to Ameena who, unlike the original baby Jesus, “crying DID make.”

We got her changed (after we studied the intricacies of modern diaper design and gave it our best shot – after all, that’s what she had done!). She wasn’t quite ready to go back to sleep, however, being in unfamiliar surroundings and wanting to study her environment, so we sat together and passed the time in quiet conversation. If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s talking (and at times, acting) like a one-year-old.

Unlike my brain, the lights around our house don’t have dimmers, but over time, we turned them out one by one until we were in the relative darkness of deep night. I held that miracle we call Ameena in my lap and rocked for a while until she was perfectly at peace with the world.

I can’t help but wonder if that isn’t what God wants for us, as well: a chance to clean us, dry us, change us, and hold us safely in his (or her) lap.

When the fullness of time had come and Ameena was out for the count, I got up from the rocker (a nice change of pace as I’m usually accused of being “off” my rocker) with the child splayed out about as relaxed as a child can get, trundled to the guestroom where momma was asleep, and set her gently in her crib, covering her carefully with a blanket.

I stood over her play-pen for a moment to confirm she was safe and secure, then returned to bed for my own much-needed sleep.

I think that’s what it means to be under the loving care of One who never slumbers nor sleeps, but (who) keeps vigilant watch o’er the human race. Happy Advent & Merry Christmas to y’all in this, our valley!