OPINION:
For the first Christmas morning in 35 years, we woke up with nothing on our agenda. Our four children and their families, in an agreed-to rotation, were with their respective spouses’ families. We had exchanged gifts earlier and wished each other a Merry Christmas, but this morning there was silence. No footsteps running through the front door, no wrapping paper, and ribbons piled in heaps around the tree. No sticky hugs from toddlers clutching half-eaten peppermint sticks. No reason for platters of cinnamon rolls, hot sausage, buttery grits, and other breakfast treats.
So my husband and I got in the car for the six-hour drive to coastal Georgia, our favorite getaway spot. We imagined that we’d listen to Christmas music on the drive and find a good spot for lunch along the way. What we’d failed to factor in was this: most places to eat, even along I-95, are closed on Christmas Day.
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My heart was already sad, away from all my people, including the first five of our now 12 grandchildren. My full-fledged pity party was underway when we stopped at the first eating establishment with any activity: Waffle House #610 in Simpsonville, South Carolina.
We took two seats at the almost full breakfast bar and ordered our Christmas lunch of two eggs over easy, crispy bacon and a biscuit. Coffee appeared quickly and was refilled before we even asked by friendly folks behind the counter. A sweet, easy comradery filled the long kitchen space in view of a room full of diners. Flipping pancakes, cooking eggs by the dozen, stirring big pots of grits. The servers were old and young, black, white, and Hispanic. This was Christmas Day away from their families, too, but there were smiles on their faces as they served up hot meals with a healthy side of Southern hospitality.
Before John could stop me, I snapped the first selfie I’d ever taken, capturing the two of us and our plates of food. I quickly texted it to our children with the message “Merry Merry! This is our Christmas dinner!” When John realized what I’d done, he said “Oh no! You’ll make them feel bad!” I replied “Exactly.”
Almost immediately, with a Christmas Day epiphany, I realized what I’d done. My heart was so full of self that there was little room for my Savior. I was so focused on missing our family that I didn’t really see the kind, hard-working people Jesus loved who were spending their Christmas Day preparing food and serving hot meals to strangers, even one as ungrateful as me.
My shame and sorrow met a look of kindness I’ve come to treasure over decades of marriage. My husband’s twinkling blue eyes gave me a wink, and with a sweet smile, he signed our check with a tip large enough to bless everyone working at Waffle House #610.
And the joy of Christmas, the thrill of surprise, the delight of sharing with others turned that day and my heart inside out.
Our friends Bonnie and Richard are often by themselves on Christmas Day, too. They gather with their grown sons and many grandchildren before the 25th to free them up to see other family members and establish their own routines. So on Christmas morning, these friends report to a local ministry for men in addiction recovery, don their aprons and joyfully serve breakfast as they share the love of Christ.
Christmas and Epiphany show God’s heart toward the world. Poor shepherds in a field who heard the voices of angels announcing the birth of a child, wealthy wise men from the east who followed a star. Cooks and servers in a rural restaurant, men working to find freedom from addiction and a woman who almost missed the meaning of Christmas. He loves us one and all. And He means for us to love each other, one and all, as well.
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Willa Kane is a former global trustee of The Anglican Relief and Development Fund and is presently a trustee of the American Anglican Council. She is one of the founders of New City Fellows, Raleigh, NC and a trustee for Anne Graham Lotz’s AnGeL Ministries. She is also one of the co-authors behind “Eighth Day Prayers: Daily Hope for Advent, Christmas and Epiphany” (Forefront Books). See more at: https://eighthdayprayer.org
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