By Elizabeth Goldsmith Musser
An old cassette tape of Christmas carols—received in a
package twenty years ago when we had first arrived in France as
missionaries—fills our den with delightful piano music as I place one more
ornament on the already over-laden Christmas tree. This one is a
little white wooden rabbit with pink ears that move back and forth.
It actually doesn’t look much like a Christmas ornament, but I bought
it for our baby Andrew when my husband Paul was in seminary, and I was working
for less than minimum wage in the library. This ornament was
literally all I could afford.
package twenty years ago when we had first arrived in France as
missionaries—fills our den with delightful piano music as I place one more
ornament on the already over-laden Christmas tree. This one is a
little white wooden rabbit with pink ears that move back and forth.
It actually doesn’t look much like a Christmas ornament, but I bought
it for our baby Andrew when my husband Paul was in seminary, and I was working
for less than minimum wage in the library. This ornament was
literally all I could afford.
As I hang it on the tree today, I get goose bumps and then a
rush of warmth. And that’s why I decorate for Christmas.
Not to impress but to remember. I remember those lean, lean
years, and God’s faithful provision for us.
rush of warmth. And that’s why I decorate for Christmas.
Not to impress but to remember. I remember those lean, lean
years, and God’s faithful provision for us.
There are the cross-stitched ornaments I made our first year
in Montpellier—for the boys (for by now we had two sons) and Paul and me.
How I ever had time to do that, I don’t know. I remember
our puny little tree—the kind they sold in France back then—in a pot so that it
could be replanted later. We perched that tiny tree on a small table
out of baby Christopher’s reach. I guess I watered it too much,
because about halfway through December, it started smelling and then stinking,
and it rotted there on Christmas Day!
in Montpellier—for the boys (for by now we had two sons) and Paul and me.
How I ever had time to do that, I don’t know. I remember
our puny little tree—the kind they sold in France back then—in a pot so that it
could be replanted later. We perched that tiny tree on a small table
out of baby Christopher’s reach. I guess I watered it too much,
because about halfway through December, it started smelling and then stinking,
and it rotted there on Christmas Day!
I smile with these memories.
I look at the other ornaments on the tree. Many
were purchased—one for each boy—when we attended conferences around Europe, and
that makes me smile too. Getting to travel on a missionary’s budget
to exotic places! There are the waxed red bear and red baby carriage
from Wales, the brightly painted clay sun and moon from Portugal, the blue and
white porcelain windmill and wooden shoes from Holland, the hand-blown glass
Snoopys sitting on gondolas from Venice, and the delicately decorated eggs from
Prague.
were purchased—one for each boy—when we attended conferences around Europe, and
that makes me smile too. Getting to travel on a missionary’s budget
to exotic places! There are the waxed red bear and red baby carriage
from Wales, the brightly painted clay sun and moon from Portugal, the blue and
white porcelain windmill and wooden shoes from Holland, the hand-blown glass
Snoopys sitting on gondolas from Venice, and the delicately decorated eggs from
Prague.
Other ornaments include the little pinkish shiny ball
ornament with Paul’s name written in glitter—I think he made it when he was
about six , and the little red velvet bows, bought at Michael’s after Christmas
one year for a dollar. They bring a unifying theme to the tree.
I say this, smiling, because our tree is, and has always been
throughout the years, a hodge-podge of our life. And I like it that
way. I don’t think I could ever have a ‘theme’ tree. Mine
is a ‘memory’ tree.
ornament with Paul’s name written in glitter—I think he made it when he was
about six , and the little red velvet bows, bought at Michael’s after Christmas
one year for a dollar. They bring a unifying theme to the tree.
I say this, smiling, because our tree is, and has always been
throughout the years, a hodge-podge of our life. And I like it that
way. I don’t think I could ever have a ‘theme’ tree. Mine
is a ‘memory’ tree.
The music plays softly in the background and I smile through
tears, remembering God’s incredible faithfulness to call and keep us here in
France for so many years. Heart-breakingly hard years, overwhelmingly
joyful years—the same years, the same amazing God, our keeper.
tears, remembering God’s incredible faithfulness to call and keep us here in
France for so many years. Heart-breakingly hard years, overwhelmingly
joyful years—the same years, the same amazing God, our keeper.
Before we left for the mission field, I memorized Psalm 121
in English and in French, and over the years I have held on tight to those last
beautiful words of the psalm: The Lord will guard your going out and
your coming in from this time forth and forever. (NASB)
in English and in French, and over the years I have held on tight to those last
beautiful words of the psalm: The Lord will guard your going out and
your coming in from this time forth and forever. (NASB)
Of course He will. He is God with us.
We decorate to remember Christmases past, our lives, our
legacy, and mostly, for those of us who have embraced Christ, we decorate to
honor and praise Him for coming to us—Emmanuel! We make our homes
ready to receive the Christ Child, with soft music and candles burning and the
sweet flickering of angel wings on an over-laden evergreen.
legacy, and mostly, for those of us who have embraced Christ, we decorate to
honor and praise Him for coming to us—Emmanuel! We make our homes
ready to receive the Christ Child, with soft music and candles burning and the
sweet flickering of angel wings on an over-laden evergreen.
***
ELIZABETH GOLDSMITH MUSSER, an Atlanta
native and the bestselling author of The Swan House, is a novelist who writes
what she calls ‘entertainment with a soul.’ For over twenty years,
Elizabeth and her husband, Paul, have been involved in missions work with
International Teams. They presently live near Lyon, France. The
Mussers have two sons and a daughter-in-law. The Sweetest Thing (Bethany House,
2011) is Elizabeth’s eighth novel. To learn more about Elizabeth and
her books, and to find discussion questions as well as photos of sites
mentioned in the stories, please visit www.elizabethmusser.com and her Facebook
Fan Page. www.elizabethmusser.com
native and the bestselling author of The Swan House, is a novelist who writes
what she calls ‘entertainment with a soul.’ For over twenty years,
Elizabeth and her husband, Paul, have been involved in missions work with
International Teams. They presently live near Lyon, France. The
Mussers have two sons and a daughter-in-law. The Sweetest Thing (Bethany House,
2011) is Elizabeth’s eighth novel. To learn more about Elizabeth and
her books, and to find discussion questions as well as photos of sites
mentioned in the stories, please visit www.elizabethmusser.com and her Facebook
Fan Page. www.elizabethmusser.com
Welcome to the 12 Pearls of Christmas
Enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from some of today’s most beloved writer’s (Tricia Goyer, Suzanne Woods Fisher, Shellie Rushing Tomlinson, Sibella Giorello and more)! Please follow the series through Christmas day as each contributor shares heartfelt stories of how God has touched a life during this most wonderful time of the year.
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