pageantry and lack thereof
Our contribution to Harvey's Christmas pageant was a pound of fresh clean straw to fill their cardboard-box manger. Unfortunately, last week I could only get straw in 60-lb increments, so even after re-stocking the chicken run we have a lot to deal with.
big straw
From Harvey's perspective, the pageant at pre-school kid's church was also "a lot to deal with." Even the thought of a situation where adults might want him to do something specific was enough to make him vomit during the car ride over there. That's not an exaggeration. He puked all over his nice new fancy outfit that matched Zion's identically. He had to go to the pageant in his (gasp) back up clothes. Yeah, typing this, I guess I have some performance/appearance expectations of my own that might induce stress.
With two children gripping my arms in abject terror I didn't get to take any pictures this year. You can refer to last year's post to get a sense of the proceedings. Also, I was a bit irritated with my class. I was leading a whole group of angels all who absolutely refused to put on halos. Mine was the only class with zero percent costume participation. Trying to turn down my sense of failure about that.
Oh well. To whether degree my children want to comply with my wishes or look like angels, we all wait expectantly for Christmas. Me more than anyone else, perhaps. I want God's presence so badly now. In my home, in my heart, in my vomit-smelling car.
And if you want any straw for your own manger, just come on over. I'll give you a real good deal.