Christmas, Rewrapped: Navigating Overseas Holidays, Part II

Missed the first part? Grab it here.
Scrolling through Facebook that day brought a bit of sadness, glimpsing all those photos of a white Christmas in Little Rock, of all places. I’d prayed for that so many times for my kids. Well, and myself.
But a few minutes later, I was playing Christmas music while I spread mayo for sandwiches. Some old lyrics belted out:Haul out the holly/ Put up the tree before my spirit falls again… And I realized, that was why I wanted to be there, enjoying the snow (not to mention the family!). I longed for the emotion of that holiday sparkle; the cozy magic that, with all the right elements, seems to frost everything with light and togetherness and fun, muting the rough edges.

I confess I was finishing up my Christmas list in a perfect fashion for a busy mom in a little mountain town: online only on Black Friday, while my kids shouted around the house. But when I went to check my email account, it was a headline that caused my heart to fall: A 26-year-old missionary from Vancouver, Washington, John Allen Chau, killed by bow and arrow on India’s Andaman islands in the Bay of Bengal.
Go. Serve. Love is doing a happy little jig today: We’re welcoming Jenn Fortner, blogger at
Missed Part I? Grab it here.
One of the biggest stresses on my engagement wasn’t really the normal stuff–the wedding planning or whatnot. It was a phrase I’d rerun over in my head a hundred times: I don’t feel called overseas. Evangelism is not my gift. My husband-to-be surpassed the one I’d been looking for so many times over. And it really did seem God was leading us to marriage.
BY CARL BUSER,
I hadn’t been following Jesus that long when I wheeled my bags onto a West Africa-bound jetliner. For seven months, I lived with an unreached people group. Together with other global workers, we were teaming up to create an oral Bible.