Christmas Wishes from the Brandster and Me

Brandon has kept us on a crazy-tight schedule this holiday with some like a couple hundred Christmas performances. Or maybe a couple dozen. But it was a ton anyway, especially while trying to complete big semester-end school projects and catch a few minutes of sleep every night. So I thought I'd post a couple of the most fun here as a Christmas wish to you.

The first is the anti-Brandon, Mr. Crabby. We watched it over and over and over and I still laughed every time. Make sure you watch at least until you see his smile pop.



This second made me cry and get all sentimental and grateful that I have such an amazing reason to be here. (Oh btw, Rob did the flimsy camera work. He has some lame excuse. Good thing I love him.)

Yes, I am a Believer

I have seen mention in the news lately of “Santa Wars”, with the question of whether Santa is taking over Christmas. And with our youngest now twelve, I’ve also been asked what it’s like to have a house full of non-believers. Non-believers? Santa has no place in Christmas? Hum Bug.

Many, many years ago, my oldest daughter came of the age that she began to question the logistics of Santa’s Christmas Eve journey. When she came to me with those questions, I gave her an answer that crushed her little spirit—as if I’d touched my finger to the Christmas spark in her eye.

The image of that disappointed little child caused me to ponder the appropriate place of Santa Claus in our Christmas celebration. And to reevaluate my response to my subsequent children. I doubt if any of those children recall a conversation like I had with my oldest—which by the way was fairly approximate to the one I’d had with my mother a generation earlier—because that conversation never took place again.

And here is why:

First, it’s important to remember that Christ taught in parables. He told stories that sounded simple to the simple minded. Fishermen, shepherds, farmers and widows were among his cast of characters. There was always a second and deeper meaning to his stories, understood by his faithful followers who were ready to hear and understand.

To the very young, Santa is just a really amazing guy who sneaks into their house and brings gifts on Christmas Eve. As those youngsters grow in wisdom, some of the deeper meanings begin to (or can begin to) form in their minds.
Some are fairly obvious: Santa dresses in red to symbolize the blood Christ shed in our behalf. Santa has a snowy white beard, to represent Christ’s purity.
But the correlations don’t stop there. Santa is full of cheer, symbolic of the Christ’s mission to bring joy to all mankind. Santa gives gifts, symbolic of the ultimate gift of life Christ gave to us. Both Santa and Christ dedicate their entire being to serving mankind.

It requires extreme faith on the part of a young child to believe that a fat guy they have never seen is going to fly to their rooftop with a sleigh pulled by reindeer, slide down their chimney and leave presents just for them. But it makes them feel awfully special.

It also takes faith to believe that a lowly carpenter born in a manger was actually a king who was able to atone for each of our sins and give us the gift of eternal life. This faith also makes us understand how special we are in the eyes of God.
Yes it is true that faith in Christ is ever so much more important than faith in Santa. But for those who understand the nature of parables, the difference is obvious.

At some point in time we all reach an age where we begin to see outside of ourselves to the world around us. We come to realize that Santa couldn’t possibly complete his mission on his own. He needs helpers across the globe to ensure that no child is forgotten.

Christ, too, needs helpers. While he is mindful of our needs, he can’t physically make a phone call to the lonely and harried young mother. Or visit the sick. Or prepare food and provide clothing to the homeless. Or tell a young child that he or she is loved.

Since Christ cannot do all these things himself, he needs angels. He needs us.
Just as Santa needs us to be his elves.

Santa is not just for children. He is a reminder to us all that when in the service of our fellowman, we are actually in the service of our God.
And that is why in my house we will always believe.

Brand New Sweetie-Smooshie-Pie!

I mentioned in my last post that a most amazing thing happened. Last month actually, but I'm a little behind the times.

I don't know if it's possible to find anything sweeter than a brand new baby. Or if there's anything better than being a grandma. Heaven's reward for being a mom. I mean, just look at that face!

But of course, as with all things connected to me, there was a complication. My Jen is a super human momma who popped the little one out in a few seconds and was ready to go home a few minutes after that. You know the kind that make the rest of us look bad? (It's okay, I love her anyway). But when our little Raegan (cute isn't it?) was two days old, Jen took her back to the hospital to get her bilirubum (I'm sure that's not the spelling) checked.

Well, Mike was at work and I was with Ethan, so Jen was on her own when the doc listened to Raegan's little heart and said "Your baby has a hole in her heart" and then walked out of the room.

My own heart ached for her when she got home and told me the story. One of the catches of this grandmother business is that the people you worry about just multiply.

It turns out little Raegan has two holes. One is likely to close on its own, but there's a good chance the other will need to be fixed with open-heart surgery sometime in the next few months.

Of all the things I hoped to pass on to my posterity, holes in their hearts was not one.

But her parents are strong, and she is unimaginably beautiful, and God is good, so I'm confident they'll make through.

Sad and Lonely Cyber Places

So I know with all my rash and rapid posting of the last week I probably gave you all a bit of whiplash. I know, it's like WHA--? She's had a wedding, she's had another surgery, and a grandbaby (oh wait, I don't think I even got that far. But she adorable. Trust me. Pictures coming, promise) AND she has a book coming out?!? But wait, is that her, or some other author?

I know, I'm confused myself.

So let me splain: my official author name is Suze Reese, and my official author blog is suzereese.com. I did this for a few reasons, mostly because there's already a fairly famous author out there by the name of Suzanne Reese. Also because I just like Suze Reese. It's how grew up and I like it. And then there's a small degree of privacy with using a name that's not my every day one. Not sure how much of that is possible these days, but it's a nice thought anyway.

So I've been working like a mad person getting all the social media set up. But it kind of stinks that I'm starting from scratch, so I've got all these lonely little pages waiting to be found. I'm confident they will with time. But for now, if any of you are visiting here, do you suppose you could go visit there and give me some cyber hugs? That's so sweet, thanks. And once again, that site is www.suzereese.com

I'm other places too: facebook, twitter, goodreads. If you're comfy in any of those places give me a shout out.

And I love you too!