one year later

Christmas Eve at Watermark is one of my favorite things. It's the primary reason I fight to have Christmas at my house every year, and I look forward to it for weeks. The service isn't all that different from plenty of others throughout the year, so I'm not sure what makes it so exciting for me. Maybe it's the hot chocolate or going in the middle of the night... whatever it is, I love it.

Last year was different. In the weeks leading up to Christmas I was really questioning my decision to stay at Watermark. After three years, I still felt invisible in the thousands of people, and I truly believed that if I never came back no one would really care. Even though I loved many things about Watermark I felt very alone, and I wasn't sure if the good was enough to balance the loneliness. But, on Christmas Eve I put the dread aside and dragged myself to the service, and that's when everything changed.

I expected a typical service, but rather than only singing happy Christmas carols and lighting candles, we celebrated stories of life change. Not all pretty stories of life change either. Hard, painful, uncomfortable pasts turned into futures filled with life and hope. Real, honest people changed by the birth and death of Christ... the reason Christmas happened. As I read the simple, silent testimonies written on plain brown cardboard I connected and remembered why I belonged, and I haven't questioned it since.

Tomorrow they're doing the same thing. I know because this year I'M one of the cardboard people. A friend on staff asked me last week if I'd be willing to share my story of grace, and although it's way outside of my comfort zone, I said yes. After all, it's silent, so all I had to do was come up with two phrases for my sign (harder than it sounds...) and turn it around on cue. Scary, but totally doable!

The more challenging part has been coming around to the idea that I'm one of "those" people... that I have a story that anyone cares to hear. Luckily I wasn't terribly attached to that belief because it's been shot down repeatedly this week. More than once someone has cried when I told her what my sign will say. I do see that God has done wonderful things in my life in the past few years, and this year especially I've changed a lot. But I didn't see ME as the type of person who God uses to bring others that kind of joy. Well, I didn't see myself as the type of person God used to bring any kind of joy but certainly not joy so powerful it produces tears.

Anyway, even though it's pretty unlike me, I'm super excited about tomorrow. I get to tell people what God has done in MY life. Thousands of people (that part's a little scary!). And someone will read my words and connect just like I did last year... because God can bring good from my bad. Great reason to ignore the fear!

the reason why

Lately I keep getting the same question: why do you go to a church where you feel so alone? Some days I have a hard time answering. Other days it's almost laughably easy. This week I've had some of both...

However, twice last week I was reminded of why I chose Watermark and why I've resisted all the suggestions to move on. Last Tuesday we spent the evening hanging out with two of the little girls from my small group at their family's Christmas party. They happen to live a few blocks away, so their parents invited me even though we'd only met in passing as they dropped off and picked up their girls. I was pretty nervous when I walked in their house and knew no one, but I shouldn't have been... we met some new neighbors (who also go to our church) and were welcomed with open arms.

But, my favorite part of this holiday was probably the Christmas Eve service. I love going to the late night service regardless, but this year it was amazing. I'll be honest: I remember very little of the beginning. It was late. I was sleepy. I'm sure it was wonderful. What I do remember wasn't how beautifully the room was decorated or how movingly Todd spoke... I remember the stories of life change that were shared. A line of at least 20 people walked one by one onto the stage holding plain cardboard posters. One side had their story before. The flip side had their story now. A song played in the background, but no one spoke a word. It was so simple and so moving.

As I sat in my chair in the middle of the almost filled auditorium, I connected. I knew many of the people on that stage and had heard their stories in full, and I knew that I could just as easily be there myself. Three years ago I didn't have a story to tell, not one that I recognized anyway. Now I struggle to find words to express my gratitude for God's grace. I'm humbled by the healing I've found... and I'm thankful for a church where people are willing to admit their struggles, no matter how shameful or dirty they may seem.

And as a side note... my girls had some encouragement tonight too. They were having a hard time grasping the idea that you could do a good thing for a selfish reason, so I gave the example of me singing just so people would compliment me or like me rather than to honor God. Then one of the girls said "Well your wish came true." I thought, ok... they still don't get it, but I asked her what she meant. Her response? "Well, now you get to sing for God and for us, and we like it." Then another one chimed in "And we LOVE you!!!"

I guess my dream did come true... I hadn't even noticed.

and the rest is yet to come

The beginnings of my nativity (handmade by my friend Kathy)...

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph



baby Jesus up close



the shepherd, the sheep, and the two newest members of my flock

the mouse