Tag Archives: Advent

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Silent Night, Holy Night, Again

Adahlyn Wood Ledford, Caleb Ledford, and Alice Caroline Ledford

Silent Night
By Abigail Hardy
It was December 5th, 1992.  As I rushed with my parents into the emergency room entrance late that night, a gurney sped past us.  Like a snapshot, I can remember, the sight of a leg, knee up in the air covered with a white sheet and below the knee, unnaturally, something large and black was bisecting the bloody leg.  Is that really what I saw?  I was too unsure to ask my parents.  I could tell they were more scared than they were willing to admit to me.
I sat in the waiting room of the ER.  I felt lost and unsteady as my parents went back to talk with the doctors.  Words like “accident” “coma” “racing” “head-on” were punctuating the air of the waiting room as people from our small church slowly filled it. 

Things like this do not happen to us.  Not to kids coming back from a church youth group trip.  Surely not, God. 

The van, driven by our church’s youth group leader and my Dad’s closest friend, had been hit head-on by a man in a Corvette.  He had been racing 120 mph down the curving road, some pieces of his car left hanging high in the trees. 
My oldest sister Hannah had been in the back of the van with four other junior high students from our church youth group, and two adult leaders in the front.  Kirsten, the energetic college student from WCU who helped with the youth group, died instantly.  Hannah was in a coma.  Mr. Brown, the driver, was the victim we had seen as we rushed into the ER with the brake pedal stuck through his lower leg and a broken pelvis and ribs.  He had been pinned in the car and had prayed with the kids and kept them calm until the emergency services arrived and were able to cut him out.  Another student had a serious head injury and the other three had escaped with broken bones or scrapes and bruises.

My sister had been airlifted to Memorial Mission in Asheville soon after my parents and I had arrived at the local ER.  When I got to visit her in the hospital the next day, I remember the sight of my mother, holding her hand, singing hymns and Christmas carols to her unresponsive body. 

On the third day, as my mother sang Silent Night to her daughter, she heard my sister’s voice join with hers.  Hannah had woken up.

This is the meaning of Christmas, lived out by the people I lived with. 
Mr. Brown, speaking peace to panicked kids as his own pain loomed like a giant wave above him. 
Kirsten, losing her life in the middle of obedience to Christ’s call on her to minister to kids.
My mom, singing Silent Night over my sister in total faith that God is our healer and restorer.
My sister, given back life through no merit or effort of her own, and, oh, so thankful for that gift.

And, yes, the tears fall when I sing Silent Night at Christmas.  Because this is a beautiful, broken world that our Almighty God was born to save.

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Every Heart Prepare Him Room

Many of us have spent lots of time recently decorating for Christmas, making cookies and other special goodies. We prepare our home inside and out with festive decorations. If you are like me – the ornaments and decorations hold many special memories themselves and getting them out and on display reminds me of happy times in years past.

I can’t give an accurate account of the amount of time I spend in holiday preparations, yet it is significant.

We sang my second favorite Christmas carol at our church service today – “Joy to the World”. The chorus includes these words – “let every heart, prepare Him room…” A friend, Kathryn Boyer, shared after worship that God had convicted her about that phrase. Was she preparing room in her heart for Jesus? The baby born of the virgin Mary. The promised Messiah. The King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

The Holy Spirit nudged me – no, it was more like a jab – and challenged me to consider the condition of my heart. Was there room being prepared in my heart for Jesus? Amidst all my decorating, baking, planning and preparing for Christmas was my heart ready for Jesus – the very reason that I celebrate Christmas???

What does it mean to “prepare Him room”?

  1. My first thought on this is making space in my busy schedule. Am I so busy I put aside prayer, Bible reading, worship, and/or fellowship? I must prioritize my time with Jesus.
  2. I must not let my preparations for Christmas push my relationship with Jesus – whose birth is why we celebrate Christmas – aside.
  3. Instead my very preparations should themselves “prepare room”. I can use decorations that celebrate the birth of Jesus and point to the reality of His birth.
  4. My baking and cooking can bless others by showing them love and care.
  5. Jesus wanted us, His followers, to share His love and meet the needs of those around us.
  6. Inviting others to share our celebration of Christmas is inviting Jesus. Jesus taught us that if we serve others, we are serving Him.

Preparing Him room in our hearts requires us to be intentional with our thoughts and actions.

Jesus tells us, His followers in Matthew 6:19-21 –

9 “Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal. 21 Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.

The Amplified Version explains the meaning this way – “where your treasure is, there your heart [your wishes, your desires; that on which your life centers] will be also.”

If my celebration of Christmas centers on how amazing my lights and decorations are, how many dozens of cookies I can bake, or how stressed I am with all the grandchildren coming, I am NOT preparing room for Jesus. One step into eternity my collection of holiday china won’t mean a thing.

I desire to center my celebration of Jesus’ birth by preparing my heart to honor and worship Him. “May every heart prepare Him room.”

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Leaving a Legacy

Lincoln and advent

Our daughter Hannah recently shared this story with a group she leads at her church – MOPS – Mothers of Pre-schoolers. She sent it to me and I thought I would pass it on as a “guest blog post”. I hope it blesses you as it did me.
“Thank you for letting me share a story with you today, but first I have a challenge for all of us moms. Whether we birthed our kids, adopted them, and/or fostered them, God still made us moms and we must raise them in this troubled world. This is a heavy responsibility, but one we can accomplish when empowered by God. And, thankfully we also have the encouragement of our friends here at MOPS. So, my challenge for all of us is this:

What legacy are we leaving with our kids?

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter
• how much television your kids watch,
• how late their bedtime is,
• whether they sleep with you every night – or in their own room,
• whether you spank or use time outs,
• whether you breastfeed or bottle feed, or both,
• whether you sent your kids to pre-school or home schooled or neither,
• how long it takes for you to upgrade your six year-old to a booster seat.

We moms disagree on all of these topics. But, bottom line, what really matters is how our children understand our FAITH. Do they see it? Do they know the real reason for Christmas?
On the wall of my kitchen hangs this quote I want to share with you. It was written by Ruth Graham, wife of Billy Graham.

“For the Busy Mother, the pressures of daily living tend not so much to CRUSH as to DISTRACT and DIVERT us from our main purpose. They ‘scatter’ us. How easy I have found it to go through the motions of being a mother but without the real object in view. Our main purpose in life is to lead our children early to know Jesus Christ and to train them to live according to His standards – it’s a daily job. “Line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little, there a little.” Time for us mothers is slipping by quickly and we cannot afford to be distracted. Deuteronomy 6:6-9 speaks about the ten commandments and then the Greatest Commandment – to love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and might. Specifically that we should “teach them diligently to our children, talk of them when we sit in our house, when we walk by the way, when we lie down and when we rise.”

Twenty one years ago I was riding in a van on the way home from a youth group hayride. I’m from the mountains of North Carolina and the roads are curvy, up and down and around the mountains. The car I was riding in was struck by a speeding Corvette. The crash resulted in two deaths, four hospitalizations, and injuries for the passengers. I sustained a closed head injury and was air lifted to the large hospital 50 miles away in Asheville. I was in a coma for approximately three days.

My parents kept a vigil at my bedside and prayers from folks literally around the world were offered up for me and the others. My father went home on the third day to check in with my siblings who were staying with family friends and pick up changes of clothes for himself and my mother.

While mother was alone with me she began singing Silent Night while gazing at the Christmas lights shining throughout downtown Asheville. Suddenly, as Mom tells it, I began singing with her. I awoke from the coma to join my mom in singing Silent Night.

I’ve told this story probably 200 times and now that I’m a mom, it feels different to tell it. What would I do if this happened to one of my kids? Would I be in constant prayer at her bedside? Of course I would be – but I need to be reminded that life is precious and so fragile. Horrible things happen all the time – many of us in this room have had miscarriages, several have had stillborn babies, perhaps some of you have buried a child, and for lots of us, medical issues are very familiar. My Mom stayed by my side and sang about Jesus to me, and as I woke up, I was singing with her.

That’s my mom’s legacy to me.

As soon as I woke up, all my vital signs improved dramatically and I was only in the hospital for a total of six days – 2 ½ of those I was comatose. Every time I hear Silent Night I thank God for life.

Because of Jesus’s birth and God’s love for us, we can pass on this amazing love to our kids and to each other. Miracles do happen – I am one of them and I am so grateful that I was able to grow up, marry a wonderful man, have four kids, and share this mothering journey with all of y’all.”