December 5th - Luke 2:1-14

For a few of my elementary school years, my brothers and I were able to attend a Christian School. Our family could name countless memories from that time - it was great because my Dad's church office was at the school, and my Mom was the school secretary so we were all in the same place during the day.

Every month in every grade we had a passage of scripture to memorize. In December each year it was the same...Luke 2:1-14. We would work on it for weeks, then recite it to our teachers. I can still recall most of it from memory. Even though memorizing scripture can be a chore, it truly is a treasure within my heart now that I am an adult. So, when I hear any reference to Chapter 2 of Luke, it reminds me of that special time at Manteca Christian School when we received that valuable assignment....to hide God's Word in our hearts.

December 4th - The Story of Wallace Purling

My Dad loves Christmas more than anyone, which is probably why I have so many rich memories of that time of year. He has the ability to make Christmas special, and not just for our family, but for the entire church. As a Music Minister, he has always been able to put special touches on the Christmas season to make it a memorable time for the church family.

One of the ways that he does this is by telling stories on Sunday mornings throughout the Christmas season that he has picked up over the years. They vary most of the time, but the one story that makes an appearance every year is the story of Wallace Purling. He loves it so much that he just blogged about the story the other day.

You can read it here - http://louiesalazar.blogspot.com/2010/12/trouble-at-inn.html

More so than the story, what I love is the joy in which my Dad tells it. Over the years, I am pretty sure that he added a detail or two to make the story more compelling. I won't get to hear the story in person this year, but it's nice to have the memories of all of the times I have heard it. Perhaps I will tell it to the kids in our church one Sunday morning this year to continue the tradition...

December 3rd - The year we got Nintendo

If you are in your late 20's or 30's, chances are you had a Nintendo when you were in your preteen/teen years. One year, that was the main wish for my brothers and I...The Nintendo system, complete with Super Mario Bros./Duck Hunt. My Mom always had us make our Christmas lists, and I have to say that most years unless it was just completely outrageous, we got the "most wanted" thing on our list.

Christmas morning came that year, and as we came downstairs our "big gift" was usually out and unwrapped. We raced down, and there were presents, that's for sure - but no Nintendo!

We unwrapped our presents one by one (this is another tradition for another day), and one by one, we got some great things, but still no Nintendo. I remember as we opened the last gifts, Jason and I looked at eachother with a dissapointed shrug, and I thought "maybe next year." It was right about that moment when my Dad said "hey, I think one of the presents might of got left in my closet..." He didn't even have the last words out of his mouth when Jason, Josh and I tore up the stairs, practically climbing over eachother in a mad scramble to reach the coveted gift waiting. Of course, it was the Nintendo. Days and days of Nintendo playing followed... a great memory.

I love the excitement on my kid's faces when they open that one gift that they have been hoping for. I'm pretty sure my parents remember this day as well as I do...it was one of the best!

December 2nd - Salazar Christmas Eve

There was a period of time when I was in elementary school where we lived in Manteca, California for a few years. During this time, we lived remarkably close to both sets of my grandparents. I know now that I am in full time ministry and live 1,000 miles from the closest set of our parents, what a gift this time in our life really was.

We lived about 30 minutes from my Grandma & Grandpa Salazar, and so Christmas Eve during that time meant a trip to Turlock for a night with Dad's side of the family. I'm sure my parent's marriage was God ordained simply because the Christmas holiday worked out so well in terms of their traditions: Salazar's celebrated on Christmas Eve, and Ferrin's, Christmas morning!

Christmas Eve nights were very fun; we always had a big enchilada dinner and lots of family time. The most memorable thing about that night for me every year was when everyone would gather in my grandparents "front room" (living room) to watch my brothers and I put on a little show. It always was a sampling of things, perhaps a song we had learned from a musical we were in, maybe a skit, or when we got a little older, a song on our instruments. I'm sure our performances were mediocre at best, but I know that my Grandma loved them because to this day, when we talk on the phone during Christmas she brings it up every time.

I didn't realize then what a treasure it was to celebrate Christmas with extended family every year. Now that we plan a year in advance to fly 2,000 miles or drive 1,000 to parents houses for Christmas, it is an even more meaningful memory.

December 1st - "The Holly and the Ivy"

I am blogging the next 25 days about some of the greatest memories I have from Christmastime. If you didn't read my previous post, it will explain my thoughts a little more. These memories aren't in any particular order!

I think it started sometime in Junior High, maybe High School. I was pretty new to playing the flute - I started in 5th grade. One year though, my Dad pulled out the Mannheim Steamroller classic "The Holly and the Ivy" for he, my brother Jason and I to play together. I played my flute, and Dad and Jason played the keyboards, and I must say, it sounds pretty close to the real thing! Every time we have been all together (which doesn't happen very often) we play this for a service in church. This memory is great in itself, and I think about it every time that song flows through our playlist during the Christmas season.

There are two stand out years though. First, one year we decided to get my little brother, Josh involved. So Dad pulled out some finger cymbals and bells and Josh worked at figuring out the rhythms. Well, apparently, it is an amusing sight to see a 16 year old teenage boy who is not exactly known for his musical prowess among the youth in the church to stand up on stage with a tiny pair of finger cymbals and play a "ding" here and there in a classical piece. Jason and I have a little laugh every year about it.

The second one, although not funny at the time, is very funny now. The opening of The Holly and the Ivy is played on a recorder. I had always played it on my flute as I wasn't exactly the most proficient recorder player. One year, I had the brilliant idea that it should sound as authentic as possible. I came home for Christmas break from college, Dad bought me a nice wooden recorder, and I set out to teach myself to play. Then came "Carols by Candlelight." I stepped up to play the recorder part, very nervously because I was nowhere near confident. What came next was a total train wreck. I started. I squeaked. I started over. I squawked. One more time. Nope. Couldn't get it. I glanced back at my Dad, who had a slight look of panic, then he told me just to play it on my flute. I did, it was great, memory made.

I was appalled that night, but it quickly became a family joke. That was probably about 13 years ago, but we joke every time we play together that "I should go grab my recorder." I still have that dumb thing. I have no idea why...

25 days of Christmas

I am not the most committed blogger. I could never write a book because I suffer from writer's block nearly everyday. However, today is December first, and very much my favorite month. Partly because it is my birthday month, but mostly because it's Christmastime, and entirely "the most wonderful time of the year." I got to thinking yesterday about all of the wonderful memories I have surrounding Christmas. I most certainly have more than 25; some of them as recent as last Friday when we took the kids all bundled up and went searching in the hills above the Rogue Valley for our first "real" Christmas tree.

Pastoring kids and parenting kids are the two things I am most passionate about. I think that this probably has a lot to do with how well I was brought up, and the wonderful memories I have from my childhood, both in the church and at home. A lot of these memories come from the Christmas season. So, bare with me over the next 25 days as I share some of my favorites. You may not read them all, but I can guarantee one thing...my Mom will!

Merry Christmas!

A Birthday Never to Be

I've thought about writing this post for a few weeks now. I've thought and thought, but never really could reconcile in my heart why I would do it. I suppose today, I just feel like maybe someone needs to hear...

If things would have gone according to plan, if things would have worked out the way Aimee wanted them; I would be holding 2 babies right now, or at least would be very near holding them. The last week of April 2010, I miscarried twins. I was about 11 weeks along, so it was too early to know if they were boys or girls. They were identical, because one thing they were able to determine was that they were "mono" twins; meaning they shared a gestational sac. Unfortunately for them and for many babies in their situation, that doesn't give them the best odds of survival.

When I found that I was pregnant early in March, they gave me a due date of November 13th. I was so looking forward to a November baby! Just in time for my favorite season of Thanksgiving and Christmas - the perfect time to take a maternity leave. The situation was perfect, and other then the worst nausea EVER, I was doing well and happy.

Then my 11 week appointment came along. At the doctors office they couldn't determine what was going on, just that things on the ultrasound didn't look quite right, but "everything is probably fine." So, they sent me to the hospital for a better ultrasound with someone that was better trained. The ultrasound tech knew pretty immediately what was going on. She said "well, there are two babies...(5 second pause)...but neither of their hearts are beating."

It was quite a surreal experience to find out about the existence of someone in one breath, and know you had lost them in another. The night I found out about our loss, as I was getting ready for bed; I noticed the picture on my dresser. It is a picture of my G-Mom and G-Pop, my great grandparents. I never knew my G-Mom, but I had the privilege to know G-Pop until just a few short years ago when he went to join G-Mom in heaven. As I looked at their wedding picture that night, my mind saw a picture of heaven; G-Mom and G-Pop in rocking chairs, each holding one of our precious twins. In that moment, I knew they were fine, I knew God knew best and I knew we would be okay.

Fast forward a few months, and here I am; nearly 18 weeks pregnant. It's only one baby this time; we'll find out in a couple of weeks whether we'll need pink or blue. In all of the happiness over this new addition coming; I couldn't help but be preoccupied this week as I knew that our babies, under different circumstances would be arriving any time now. I am the last person to be able to tell you why some things happen. When I got in my van to leave the hospital that day, the only thing that came out of my mouth was "Jesus, I trust you." I am not a hero of the faith; not even close actually...there was just enough grace on that day for me to know that asking why would be infinitely more difficult than just simply trusting. That trust has helped heal my heart, and gives me hope for the future that one day we'll all be together again.