When I woke up this morning, I remembered Nelson’s words about expectations, how things turn out “bad” if our hopes are too high. Looking out the bedroom windows to make my morning weather check, I lowered the first expectation, because it was pouring rain. Although we’ve had some nice snow in recent days, today would be a sloppy mess. And as always, my second expectation has been permanently lowered, that of being with Nate on Christmas. It won’t happen again.

At breakfast, the head of the table where Nate normally sat was empty as the five kids and I sat opposite each other along the sides. We talked about him being missing, how odd it was, how unwelcome the change. Later, while opening gifts, we reminisced about a vacation spot we’d all loved since the kids were little: Afterglow Lake, Wisconsin.  Back in 1977, Nate found this family-oriented resort 355 miles from home that offered rental cabins near a stocked lake, each with its own row boat. There was swimming, a raft with high and low dives, sailing, canoeing, hiking, everything a young family with three little children could want.

Our first week there was a rip-roaring success, and as we left, we signed up for the following summer. That annual week grew into a month there each August, and we didn’t miss once in 25 years. After we bought the Michigan cottage, though, something had to be given up, and it was Afterglow. We missed it terribly but felt blessed by our time in Michigan each summer, near relatives of all ages. This Christmas, looking for an encouraging gift to give our children on a discouraging day, I decided to surprise them by reserving a week at Afterglow Lake in 2010. It’s been 10 years since we were there.

Under our tiny tree were envelopes containing coupons for a week at the resort, and hanging on the tree was an ornament that reminded us all of Nate’s leadership in that tradition. It was a cookie cutter framing a picture of Nate coming off the end of the Afterglow water slide, arms up, waving with enthusiasm and joy.

The “kids” opened their envelopes simultaneously, and their happy responses were gratifying. It was a good gift, better than anything that could have come wrapped in a box. We’ll look forward to our Afterglow week in September, throughout the months between now and then, but I plan to keep a leash on my expectations. It may turn out like our Macy’s dinner, a grin-and-bear-it event, because Nate won’t be with us. By then, however, we will have been without him for 10 months. One expectation I have is that time will have worked some significant healing in all of us.

After our gifts, we walked to the beach in a downpour. My thoughts wandered to the reason for Christmas Day, Jesus’ arrival on earth as a human being. I wondered if it was a difficult departure from heaven and all things divine? Did he grieve before accepting the confining limitations of becoming a human being? He could have said “no”. He didn’t have to do it.

Thoughts of gratitude flooded my mind. Jesus Christ’s coming to be the personal Savior of all who believe is a sky-high expectation he completely met. I thought of Nate, in his presence, learning the answers to those questions and many others that are, for us, out of reach. Nate is fortunate indeed!

Arriving back at the cottage, we were greeted with the smell of pot roast and a fire in the fireplace which was, once stoked, the perfect place to dry off after our soggy walk. Some napped. Some watched a Christmas movie. Some checked Facebook. We ate together. And Christmas Day came to an end, another “first without Nate.” Although I wish he was with us bodily as he was until November 3^rd, my thoughts also focus on his current life of eye-popping wonder. I’m truly happy for him and all he’s discovering and can’t wait till I can be there, too.

“…Although [Jesus] existed in the form of God, [he] did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:6-8)