So I've joked about traditions, but what is truly important to me to become a family tradition for us is to make it to a live Nativity. Honestly, it's way more important to me than seeing Santa. I love the way a live Nativity makes the Christmas scene and Jesus' birth real for kids, especially small ones. We made it to one last year but this year it was looking like it might not happen.
We planned to go to one on a Sunday evening before youth group, but just as it was getting dark a cold, sleety drizzle set in that made our prospects pretty bleak. We decided to try it out anyway, and pulled into the parking lot of a local church putting one on. They told us they were still going doing the show, just less frequently than advertised. So we waited by a tree and a heater and had some cider while we waited.
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| Cheese face! |
As it turned out, they did the show...for just us! Granted, it was a little awkward, but so sweet. They did a great job, and not only was Sweet Pea mesmerized, I felt like watching that little show made her
get it. She talked about Baby Jesus and his mama for the whole week after.
And okay, I might have teared up. Because there is something so precious about the birth of our Savior, the Savior born in a barn. Because the Heavenly Host appeared to lowly, common shepherds, ones who go to go and see the Lamb of God. Because watching unfold in front of your own baby, one who needs a Savior herself, is miraculous. Because no matter how often you see it or read it or hear it or watch it performed by a rag-tag troupe of church goers, the story of His birth is astounding.
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