For the first time in probably 20 years or more, we didn't go to Christmas Eve services at church.
I'd be lying if I said I missed Pastor David's always-on-point Christmas Eve message, but I think Pastor David and Jesus would be okay with it. It would be easy to blame the miss on winter storm Elliott and Southwest Airlines Christmas debacle, but honestly, there's nothing to blame anyone for. The events of the past few days served up our very own Christmas story. It goes something like this. (You are welcome to read this in the voice of sweet, innocent Linus, who recognized the sacredness of the Christmas story):
In those days meteorologist Glenn Burns issued a warning that a winter storm named Elliott would affect the entire United States of America. (This was the fifth winter storm warning that took place in 2022, while Ethan was living in Encinitas.) And more than 15,000 flights were cancelled.
So Ethan also went up from the town of Encinitas in California to New Orleans enroute to the town of Rome, because he belonged to the house of Bill. He went there to change flights, on his way home for Christmas to see his Mother, Lisa, who was expecting her child. While he was there Southwest Airlines delayed his flight multiple times, and alas, he was delivered to the Hilton where his father had secured him a bed because there was no room on the planes available for him.
And there were his parents and sister living out in Mountain Brook, not nearby, keeping watch over the television that night. A phone call from Ethan came to them, and they were frustrated, if not terrified. But Ethan said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for you. Today, in the town of New Orleans, Southwest will pay for a hotel room and has rescheduled my flight for Christmas Day. This will be a sign to you: You will see me at the North Terminal with only a carryon and an unopened bag of trail mix.
The next day Bill, Lisa and Autumn were accompanied by a great host of others at Hartsfield Jackson International Airport, praising God and saying,
"He's finally here! Thank you to God in heaven, who has shown us that His favor rests on us."
When the crowd dispersed and went on their way, the Fortenberrys said to one another, "Let's go to Rome and celebrate this Christmas that has happened!
So they hurried off and found their home, where Lisa, Bill, Autumn and Ethan sat in front of the Christmas tree. When they settled down, they spread the word concerning what had happened about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what Bill and Lisa said to them. But Lisa pondered these things in her heart and commenced with frying chicken, the last item needed for Christmas dinner.
So you see, our Christmas had a lot of similarities to that very first Christmas night:
A promised son was expected.
His delivery required a journey in anonymity.
There was no room on the planes (but there was room at the Hilton).
The promised son arrived on Christmas Day.
When he arrived home, he received gifts from three people (wisdom questionable).
The story of Jesus escaping Herod is often called the flight to Egypt. On Friday, Ethan will escape Rome on a flight back to Encinitas.
In the end, we are grateful. Ethan could still be stranded, like many other Southwest customers. We exchanged gifts. We ate a sumptuous meal. We worked on our annual Christmas jigsaw puzzle. Autumn created a beautiful gingerbread house from scratch. We played mancala and dominoes, and we watched It's A Wonderful Life, and, the next day, we discovered that a dusting of snow had fallen in our little corner of the world. It was indeed a White Christmas (or at least a white Dec. 26).
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