Splashes of Color and Glittering Light

This Advent season was nothing like I had expected.

I had been prepared to share meaningful Advent songs at church, and I couldn’t wait for Christmas Eve. “O Holy Night” is my favorite Christmas song, and singing it with my worship team girls in harmony is something that brings me incredible joy. I was also rehearsing for a choir cantata and getting ready to be an angel in a live nativity. Usually, my Saturdays are spent practicing and preparing for Sunday morning worship, but throughout October and November, cantata and nativity rehearsals were added to my already busy Saturdays. I welcomed the crazy schedule because it kept me busy. The past few years post-pandemic lockdown were really quiet, so having purpose and something to do was really gratifying.

But then a week before the nativity performances, I felt like I was coming down with something. I was congested and developed a cough. I wore a mask to rehearsals and didn’t sing much because I knew that my cough was starting to weaken my voice.

I woke up on Sunday, the 10th, ready to head to church for sound check. I tried to sing, but no sound came from my vocal cords. I drank some tea and then called one of our church musicians to ask for help. Fortunately, I had already spoken to her a few days prior to tell her that I was under the weather. I told her I was worried I might lose my voice, and I asked if she could be prepared to play some Christmas carols in the event I would have a weak voice. I was so glad I had given her a heads-up!

For the next six days, I couldn’t speak, and I definitely couldn’t sing. My dad and many of my friends would call almost every day, and every day, I would try to get enough sound out to at least say hello. During that time, I went to urgent care and learned that I had laryngitis and bronchitis. With medication, sleep, and lots of fluids, I slowly came back to better health.

But my voice was slow to return. I was getting worried that I wouldn’t be able to carry the vocal load on Christmas Eve. I had already been out of commission for two Sundays in a row and I knew I needed to get back to work. A kind congregation member sent me a generous gift, and I was overwhelmed by their kindness. Instead of writing a thank-you note, I called to wish them a merry Christmas and express my gratitude. As the conversation neared an end, I asked about Christmas plans for this church member, and I learned that both daughters would be home for Christmas. Both of them are beautiful singers. Immediately, I felt a glimmer of hope spring up inside me. I had a harmony singer willing to join me on Christmas Eve, but until then, I didn’t have anyone committed to help me lead. I wasted no time in calling one of the daughters, and graciously she said yes to helping me sing at the Christmas Eve services.

I had to be honest. I had been ill physically, but I was also not well emotionally. I had been really discouraged. Not being able to sing at a time of year when you rely most on your voice was beyond frustrating. I had to forfeit my participation in both the nativity and cantata. I watched from the audience as both events took place and I wanted to sing along so badly!

But I had awesome friends who supported me through each day of my recovery. Each encounter provided another glimmer of light that added to the eventual addition of singers on Christmas Eve. A neighbor drove me to urgent care; a sweet friend helped me get essentials at the dollar store and helped me get groceries. My household assistant helped me get a new Christmas tree because the lights had gone out on my pre-lit four-footer.

Even though it was a challenge, another friend led me through the live nativity and kept me from tripping or falling in the dark. I am grateful for all of the friends I reconnected with or met for the first time at the cantata and live nativity rehearsals. I wasn’t able to participate musically like I would have hoped, but I was so encouraged by the support of others and the kindness extended toward me.

After both Christmas Eve services and the gift that my friends’ voices added to the mix, I came home to a quiet house for one last night. Christmas morning, I was scheduled to leave for my parents’ house in Iowa. I wasn’t sure I was really looking forward to leaving home. I was just barely feeling well enough to get back to normalcy, and I was still really tired. I was also a little nervous about catching something else. I have an important venture lined up in the next few weeks, and I need to be healthy.

Our family Christmas gathering turned out to be a bit smaller than planned because one of my sisters and some of her kids came down with a stomach bug. I was sad not being able to see them, but it was nice to have a less crowded gathering.

Since I was staying with my parents, I was at the house when my sisters and their families started to arrive for our sort-of-Christmas. One of my nieces immediately came to me and asked if I would color with her. She showed me these magnets that she had started to color with these fancy, glittery pens. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I can’t see very well, remember? These designs are really tiny and I might mess it up. I don’t want to make a mistake on your pretty magnets.”

“That’s okay,” she said. My five-year-old niece proceeded to set out her fancy pens and magnets, and we sat side-by-side at the kitchen island to color. I was right; the magnets had really small and intricate designs. But we came up with a plan. My niece would fill In one portion in each section of the magnet with the color she wanted it to be, and then I would look at where she had colored and filled in the rest. I made one mistake, but she colored over it so it is hard to tell where the error occurred. All the while, she was so patient with me. I told her mom later that she will probably make a good teacher some day. She was determined to make sure I finished the magnet and that it looked pretty in the end. She sent me home with it, and now it is front and center on my refrigerator.

The simplicity of that coloring project, the beauty of a new Christmas tree and its twinkling lights, the harmonies swelling around me as my voice was silenced, the gift of kindness of my friends and family— all of it was light, color, and hope amid some very dark days.

As I was driving home on my scooter from Christmas Eve morning worship, I marveled at the fact that I was out and about independently the day before Christmas. I live in Wisconsin and we quite often have snow, ice, slush, and salt on the roads by early December. I’m always asking for rides at Christmas time, and for the first time ever, I was able to get myself back and forth from church in late December. I was also so grateful that I was starting to feel better. As the low-angled sun bathed me in golden light, I lifted tearful eyes up to the sky and whispered a prayer of gratitude.

This Advent and Christmas was not what I had expected, but it was still a gift, even though it was wrapped in adversity. It made me appreciate the simple and yet beautiful moments that now overwhelm me when I consider it all.

As we enter into 2024, I have hope that incredible and amazing things are on the horizon. I can’t wait to share what’s next!