“What would happen if presents all went away?
We get so caught up in all of it. Hundred mile an hour lives.
It seems the last thing on your mind is that the day holds something special.
Something holy, not superficial. So here’s to the birthday boy who saved our lives!
Christmas must be something more.”
These words from my girl Taylor Swift really resonated with me this year.
I had quite honestly been fearing this last week. It has loomed over the entire four months of bliss like a menacing rain cloud letting me know it would soon pour. I was not at home for my birthday, my mom’s 50th birthday, Christmas (for the first time in my life), and one of my best friend’s weddings.
Yet, my constant prayer from Day One of the Race has been akin to Paul’s wisdom—mastering the art of being content with little as with much. I can say, in honesty, that blanket of peace that only our Father gives has wrapped me warm and cozy all week long.
Praise the Lord for technology that has allowed me to communicate back home to the ones my heart longs to be with, and praise Him again for confirmation after confirmation that I am right where I am supposed to be.
So with no further ado, let me paint you a picture of Christmas on the island:
We gather in a white tent with a tarp covered floor, a propane fueled heater, 80 plastic chairs, a few Christmas lights, garland draped over the speaker, and a makeshift podium donning a bow. A cauldron of hot chocolate welcomes volunteers from Germany, Russia, Hong Kong, China, the Netherlands, the UK, Canada, all over the USA, and Greece, of course. Several local Greeks have also accepted the invitation. It is Christmas Eve.
A team from Antioch Church in Waco, Texas has their pastor’s family visiting, and they host the most beautiful service. We sing all the Christmas hymns, read the story of Jesus’s birth, light candles, and listen to a message proclaiming the depths the Lord went to for our salvation and the way He is always seeking to draw close to us. Things I have heard a hundred times, I see in the new light of our current circumstances, and I am grateful all the more.
Our team of 7 goes to dinner to celebrate together. My family’s tradition of chicken and dumplings every Christmas Eve is missed, but I cannot say that lamb is a bad alternative! An intoxicated little Greek man speaking broken English stumbles across our gathering and pulls up a chair, making for a little evening entertainment. After we have heard enough about his 27 donkeys and have taken a few insults, we make it back to the apartments for a janky version of White Elephant in which my homemade chocolate popcorn goes over quite well. I end up with a bowl of fresh pomegranate seeds, a common Greek Christmas gift to exchange. This is my only physical gift, but I still receive so much more.
We are on overnight shift at the camp. The evening shift is worshipping together around a bonfire at 11:30pm when we arrive. They invite us to pray together before transitioning, and we thank the Lord for the gift of his Son in more than five languages. It is a powerful moment getting to unite with believers from all over the world in an environment like this. The power of community with Jesus-followers is always evident in calamity.
We wish our Merry Christmases and wave our goodbyes before it is only my team left for the night. I take advantage of the strong wi-fi connection to speak with my family, seeing their smiling faces and hearing their sweet voices for over an hour, probably the longest this entire four months. This was my second Christmas gift!
A tent at camp with cots, sleeping bags, and a heater is our place of rest for the night. We take turns keeping watch every hour and are all prepared to wake up and resume posts if refugees arrive. Tonight is a peaceful sleep. Gift number three!
At 7:30am, Christmas morning, our other World Race team (there are two from my squad on the island) arrives for day shift. This is the gift I actually asked for…to spend time with my friends and serve the refugees all day! We greet each other with hugs and Merry Christmases. My team all board the vans to go sleep in their beds, and I buckle up for a double shift.
Shortly thereafter, they begin coming. And when they came, they came strong. The entire day, the flow of refugees is constant. I do my duty serving them hot tea, sweet to a sickening extent because that is how they like it.
And when the tea is done, I play with the children. Julian and I toss balloons. Mohammed and I play with his baby sister. Sarai comes and asks me to take a picture with her—probably because I look ridiculous like I belong in a movie. My Christmas spirit is on point—I have borrowed a red sweater and green scarf from the donation tent and have on a headband with snowmen antenna complete with red lipstick (because that is only festive).
A man asks to wear my headband and I tell him only if I can take a picture.
One particular boat full comes soaking wet. Half of them are without shoes, wincing as they walk across the gravel covering our camp. I suggest getting mats to cover a path to the clothing tent. The volunteers here are always quick to make things happen!
The World Race girls sing Christmas songs with me, and I enjoy being in their presence. The refugees see how happy we are and they know what day it is. It warms my heart every time one of them initiates a “Merry Christmas”.
I speak blessings over a sick baby and tell them how glad I am that their boat made it safe, even when they do not know what I am saying. My joy on this day is completely of the Lord and bubbling over. The refugees give me such a feeling of fulfillment. I am part of each individual’s journey to freedom. And that is a gift times 427.
On the way home from shift, we take a pit stop to get pictures of the most beautiful full moon. I cannot help the cheesiness of this, but as the moon reflects on the water, I reflect on life. How did I get to be here? Serving in Greece during a crisis and bringing relief to people under oppression?? I am the one with the hundred mile per hour life, but the reality here (and functioning on island time) has taught me a thing or two. The big picture is all that really matters.
So what if Christmas doesn’t have presents? So what if my family and friends are far away? Today holds something special. The celebration of our lives being saved by that birthday boy. I think of the lives that walk through our camp and I pray that they can celebrate in the same way as they are “saved.” And, big picture, I ponder the Lord’s purpose in taking them from their countries where the Gospel is condemned to places with more freedom to know Him.
I see how Christmas was different this year from any other in my life, and I know Taylor Swift was right. Christmas must be something more.
P.S. All this pondering must have deserved me the four hour Greek feast at the Christmas party that night complete with live music and Greek dancing! Hope all of you had the Merriest Christmases together with your families, and know that I thank Him for my supporters and prayer warriors all the time!
