People have said:  "Well, enjoy [insert holiday festivity].  It may be your last if you go to Africa next year."

And even though the intention behind these comments sometimes irks me, I know it's true.

I love Christmas traditions.  I love the neighbor who has a plastic Santa on top of his TV antenna.  I love the house that has every Peanuts character  displayed on the lawn.  I love watching tacky Christmas movies and wearing tacky Christmas sweaters.  I love Christmas Eve services, advent candles, children's plays, even joining the last-minute crowd at the mall.

Of course I've wondered what Christmas will be like in Africa.  I've read Bill Clemmer's wonderful journal, Christmas in the Congo and I've caught myself singing "Mele Kalikimaka" with more passion than before.

Christmas traditions are fun, beautiful, and nostalgic.  Many actually do honor the Christ child.  And I will surely miss my personal traditions that I've enjoyed here in southern Illinois.  But I do know with all my heart that if I rejected Jesus' personalized commission to go to Liberia for the sake of not missing out on celebrating the holidays at home, I would be in grave danger of missing the reason for the season, rejecting my savior, AND missing out on the abundant life that comes only with obedience.

I've toyed with the idea of taking pictures of all the local decorations so I'll have them to comfort myself and teach my girls about home. And I may still do that.  But as I teach my children about the ways (good and bad) that Jesus' birth is celebrated back home, I also feel the heavy burden of teaching my children by example.  If I want to train up my children the the way that they should go, so that in the end they will not depart from it, I must do more than teach them the habit of putting up the tree and going to Christmas services.  I must be obedient to the Christ child himself, who gave up riches that even an affluent American like myself cannot comprehend, and condescended to be born to peasants in a stable.  Breath of heaven, please help me serve you this Christmas night and every day until you return or call me home.

By the way, they do have a tree, lights, and a contata at Ricks.  Praise God!