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A Christmas I Will Never Forget

Heyyo, cupcakes!!!

(I thought that was a really cute expression but never actually used it yet. But I should, because y’all are really cupcakes. Sweet, sparkly, and fun to be around. <3)

It’s been like five generations and a decade since I last posted… well, not technically, but a real post instead of a repost, yes. However, it’s been a good break for me, so I’m not gonna apologize. I do have most of my 2022 content planned out, so there will be stuff regularly in 2022. And I thank you for hanging around while I was on this unexpected hiatus. ❤ You’re really the best!!

Okay, all those preliminaries stated, let’s move on to the actual topic of this post: My Epic Christmas Concert Story. I promised it to some folks a while ago and because of being sick + Christmas jamborees + laziness, I wasn’t able to yet.

So we have been gearing up for our Christmas concert since September. Sunday school kids practising; youth group practising; men’s quartet; mother-daughter duets; family singing… almost everyone in church was practising, really. We had invitations mailed, the service was to be live-streamed, etc. We were gonna have two concerts: one in one church and the other in the second church.

Now, I have a great propensity to catch cold around Christmas and when I do, it goes to my lungs and I can’t breathe, which of course means I can’t sing. And I was in a lot of stuff for the concerts, specifically the second one. So I was trying very hard to stay healthy. However, around that time I began having a lot of breathing issues. We’re trying to track down the culprit, but anyhow, it meant that some days I had no breath and some days I was okay.

The first concert went very well. I wish it were filmed, because it was sooo good. For that one, I was in good health and able to sing without an issue, which was nice, haha. We had a lot of visitors; it was lovely.

Then there was a week of waiting for next Sunday, when the next concert would be. And the 4-year-old randomly got sick. Off and on. We heard that another family very much involved in the concert was also sick, so we were kinda worried. And then I had a very bad dust episode that left me wheezing and breathless the whole day. We were so worried that I couldn’t sing the next day, that my mother and sister figured out how to fill in my place in the concert, and we joked that it would certainly be a Christmas we’d never forget.

Now, I have to back up here and explain something. I have fallen into the trap of believing God didn’t answer my prayers because I hadn’t earned the privileged of being listened to and answered. But on a certain day in November, we had a storm and the internet was knocked out. I was very upset because I wanted to do some nonessential but time-sensitive stuff the next morning. So I prayed, and asked God to bring the internet back. In my heart, I didn’t think He would. But it was my duty to pray, so I did. It was a “last shot in my locker” type of situation.

I woke up the next morning feeling sad, thinking of how the internet wasn’t on yet. But I decided to check in case. To my disbelief and humiliation, it was back on… and it stayed on… and it worked fine.

That’s when I realized yes, God answered my prayers. So Saturday night, my littlest sisters and I prayed, asking that everything would be okay for the concert. And I felt confident everything would be fine the next morning.

Then the electricity turned off.

Oh no, I thought. If we don’t have electricity, we can’t get ready for church tomorrow morning.

But as I lay there, there was a peace in my soul. I was sure God would fix it all.

At five A.M. the next morning, I awoke to one sister throwing up her insides downstairs, followed by two more in my bedroom. To make matters worse, the sick one downstairs is the musician who plays violin and piano and sings harmony, meaning she was very important to the concert.

At first I was so dismayed I was could only laugh. Then I lay back down, and wondered why God hadn’t come through. And that’s when I realized it:

God always answers, it just isn’t always the way we want. But He knows best, so whichever way He answers, it really IS what we need—we just didn’t know it.

Although I couldn’t imagine why God was doing this to us, I had peace that it was for a reason, and more than that—I had peace that it would be all right. I wasn’t the one controlling it—it was all about God, it was all on HIS shoulders.

The morning progressed. I still struggled to breathe; my siblings were still sick; but I had peace. In the end, two of my siblings ended up able to come to church, but the musician/harmony girl couldn’t. Still, I had peace.

We arrived at church. We barely had time to practise with a few of the others singers. I was wheezy, and had no idea how I could sing—the songs were hard ones and required a lot of breath. But I had peace.

If God wants me to sing, He’s gonna heal me when I stand up to sing, I thought. And won’t that show His power!

I took my inhaler, just as a precaution, and sat down. After the opening prayer, the youth group had the first song. I got up on the platform with the other young people.

And I sang. No struggling. No wheezing. No croaking or voice breaking. No tight throat. Nothing.

Twelve minutes later I got up and sang a duet with my mother—a very demanding song. I had no problem. I thought that now, perhaps, I wouldn’t be able to anymore, because all week, if I sang a hard song, I was a wheezy mess. It was okay, I thought. Other people could fill in for me after this one song.

But no, I was fine. And on the program went. There was not a hitch in my voice.

I was amazed, thankful, humbled. And as people came up to congratulate me and tell me how well I’d sung, I could only smile and say sincerely, “Praise God, ‘cause it was all Him.”

And then I realized why God had taken so long to heal me. I was very proud of my voice and my ability to sing, and to be perfectly honest, the church concerts were a place for me to air my talents. By waiting until the last minute to heal my lungs, He showed me that I was wholly dependant on Him, and my singing was from Him, not from me.

He’d answered my prayer. Not the way I wanted, but in an infinitely better way. In the process, He taught me two lessons I needed badly.

He’s in control.

The glory goes to Him.

He answers prayers.

His way is always best.

And that’s the story of the Christmas I will never forget.

Published by Katja L.

Hello! :) I'm Katja. I'm a Canadian bibliophile, book reviewer, writer, and child of God. I love too many things to name, but among them are chocolate, heirlooms, history, fancy handwriting, grammar & punctuation, laughter, tearjerking books, lists, organized bookshelves, pink roses, flowing skirts, hymns, and pretty much anything old-fashioned, beautiful, & classy.

17 thoughts on “A Christmas I Will Never Forget

  1. Praise God! What an amazing testimony, Katja. I’m so glad He’s growing you and guiding you! 🙂 Praying that He will continue to do so through His faithfulness and Word. 🙂

    Also, I just love Christmas concerts! I’m glad it went well, and I hope you all recovered safely!

    Liked by 1 person

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