My phone lit up with my daughter-in-law’s number. “Hey,” she said a bit breathlessly, “your choices for Christmas cousin jammies are going fast. I’ll text you two or three possibilities, then we should get them tonight.”

I’m not a great shopper. I tend to wait ‘til the last minute, second guess myself, and still not make a purchase after hours of consideration. So, my daughter -in-law, who loves the challenge of shopping, finds the cousin jammies most years.

“Or,” she added, “there’s a great sale on some really cute t-shirts. Would you rather do those?”

The t-shirts were awfully cute—bright red with a perky “Feliz Navidad” across the front—but it had to be jammies. I nervously deliberated over the photos she’d texted, and chose the wisest jammies overall, cute and affordable. I want memories with the most punch, fun and consistent memories that the Lord might use to strengthen our grandchildren in the hard days of growing up. Memories that remind them, You are loved by us and by God. You will always belong. I pray for this while planning, shopping, and wrapping. My heart rises up to see them in those jammies running about in their houses all through the winter. So, jammies it had to be.  

“Done!” I told myself after I called with my final decision. “Good.”

Pst, listen . . . my heart whispered. Those t-shirts are so cute. We could make Feliz Navidad our theme song. You could call her back and change that order. Pause. No, I want jammies. Pause. Don’t you wish you could do both? Pause. That’s ridiculous.

Visions of an all-family dance party tiptoed through my thoughts. What memories that would make! One of our adult children could make a playlist of fun Christmas favorites. And . . . I could text everyone to start listening to and learning Feliz Navidad with all the kidkins.

I imagined the anticipation everyone would have preparing, and then finally dancing together. Our favorite tunes like Dancing in a Snow Globe by We are Leo, Light of Christmas by Toby Mac and Owl City, and Christmas Time Again by Steven Curtis Chapman, all mixing in with Feliz Navidad (Jose Feliciano). I could hear it, feel it, and see the kidkins laughing amidst the tall, peppy shoulders bouncing all together. Eeee!

My heart had already decided. So, one quick call and the Feliz Navidad t-shirts were ordered too.

The weeks between that Thanksgiving and the coming Christmas were sweet but busy as usual. I prayed and reveled in the idea of the dance party to come. This was going to be one of the best family events ever. The adults would be so thankful. The kidkins would remember it forever while while the fun and music wrote timeless principles on their young hearts. This was big.

Finally, a week before Christmas I called to check on the playlist and to add a song. The response? “I didn’t know anything about it. You must have asked _____. Call them.” Slight trepidation crept in. I had texted, hadn’t I? Or did they think it was a silly idea? Could I learn to make a playlist despite all I still had to do? I called but no one had time for making a playlist now.

Okay, brave gramma, don’t give up! I told myself. I had all the shirts wrapped and ready to go, and I would find a way. Now, I’m not the most “take charge” person in the world, but for this I would be. Soon our Christmas days together were upon us and were going splendidly. I set a time, and announced we’d have our dance party. After gift-giving, when I encouraged everyone to put their shirts on, they wandered away individually and in happy little groups. That morning had been one of the best. But no one came back for the dance party.

Ouch, the moment called for some decisiveness on my part. Could I be happy for all the good going on, or would I let the beloved dance party ruin everything? In my defeat, and seemingly exposed vulnerability, I sent up a quick, silent S.O.S. to the Lord. Just that moment my daughter, who was sitting at the big table in her bright, red, Feliz-Navidad-shirt beckoned me to come play my first-ever game of Ecosystem. Ah, rescued!  My glorious “yes” came from a willing spirit and a grateful heart. S

Seldom had I ever regrouped so easily and painlessly. This taught me a wealth of much needed wisdom for the days ahead.

I can plan and pray, and pave the way for unforgettable moments, but I can’t make you dance. And you can’t make me dance either. Sometimes a memory-making moment does burst into the hopeful space we so deeply dreamed and carefully prepared for. However, many of our best moments, moments we cherish for a lifetime, come when least expect them. The deciding factor either way is usually us. Are we willing to dream, pray, and put forth the effort even though we’ve been disappointed before? Are we willing to be spontaneous and attentive to what the Lord is giving us even when it’s unplanned or inconvenient? Here’s to those moments, lovely or not, that make our days, and to Christ in us, who lightens our burdens and helps us find our way through to His best.

Let all that you do be done in love. 1 Corinthians 16:14 ESV