It's the 25th and it's Christmas

Today is the 25th, which means it's exactly two calendar months since my Dad had his first surgery on 25th October. Things went so well that day; we could never have foreseen all the complications and heartache that lay ahead. There were many times that doctors told us Dad wouldn't live to see this Christmas. Back around mid November, when ICU doctors were being particularly pessimistic, I asked God what I should expect and what I should prepare myself for this Christmas. My daily Bible reading that day happened to find me in Isaiah chapter 9, a passage that is often read in church services at Christmas time. Verse 2 says, "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light... the light has dawned for those who were living in the shadow of death." Of course, it's speaking about the fact that Jesus our Saviour was born at Christmas, bringing light and life for those who used to live far from God. But for us as a family, after several weeks of doctors telling us Dad was close to death, I really felt as if we'd been walking in darkness and "in the shadow of death." Even though we knew so little of what the future might hold, I had a sense that God was telling me our Christmas would bring the dawning of light and not of death.

So here we are on Christmas Day, and we'll be spending much of it in the hospital. Dad is still very weak, but over the past days there has been a sense of things being stable, with no further setbacks and complications. Sadly, he's not really eating yet, so there will be no turkey dinner for him this year. But it is nonetheless amazing that he has made it this far and is still with us on Christmas day.

We'll be having some Christmas dinner at home today, and then heading to the hospital to spend the rest of the day with Dad. At the moment, as we're putting the turkey in the oven and beginning to prepare the vegetables, the TV is on in the background. I had to smile when I saw that it was a film about a sheepdog puppy: the dog in the movie looks very much like my Kylie that I had to leave in Cape Town. That reminded me of many summer Christmases over the years, and what a surprise it was when the very next thing on the television was a programme about animal rescue in Cape Town. So many of the places shown were very familiar to me. It's strange to sit in wintery Scotland and see pictures of sunny South Africa on TV.

Christmas is often a time for memories - hopefully mainly for remembering the fact that God sent His Son to earth so that we could be His children and His friends - but often also a time for remembering Christmases past, with their memories of old friends and places. I wonder what our memories of Christmas 2011 will mean for us in years to come.