stilles nacht (what they don't speak german in Mongolia?)

silent night, holy night

Walking to the bus stop after English class with my friend and student Od, our conversation turns to plans for Christmas Eve the next day.

"I want to have a worship time," Od says. "So we can get together and worship God."

In a country where Christmas is not celebrated by the vast majority, most churches don't have Christmas Eve services because their congregation members still have to attend school and go to work. Christmas Eve and Christmas day are days of work and homework and daily tasks.

I find myself suggesting our apartment as a gathering place, the words tumbling out before I even think of what it will mean to have guests or of how this will change my plans for the day. I always love Christmas Eve church and so I can't help but say yes to the chance for some version of that tradition to occur here.

all is calm, all is bright

Od and Teivna arrive the next afternoon, and we sit in my kitchen, hot chocolate in hand, planning the youth group's New Years celebration and laughing at Holli and I's kitten's antics.

We make spaghetti for dinner, singing worship songs and wearing silly santa hats as we chop onions, roll meatballs and boil water.

round yon virgin mother and child

The Advent wreath made out of styrofoam sits in front of us as we sit in the dark of the living room, taking turns reading the Scriptures for each candle that we light.

Hope.

Peace.

Joy.

The Way.

the Christ candle.

Alternating reading in English and singing hymns in Mongolian, I think of the beauty of sharing, of weaving together our lives, our languages and our celebrations.

holy infant so tender and mild

Teivna plays the guitar, Od sings.

And I let myself fall quiet- to reflect on sitting barefoot and cross-legged on a bed-made-into-a-couch in my Mongolian apartment, partaking in a new tradition.

of candlelit Scripture readings and Advent wreaths and the cadence of Mongolian coloring familiar hymns.

tears fall

and I fall in love all over again with a Savior born into a manger,

I fall in love all over again with a babe who came to remind us that we are brothers and sisters,

bound together, called to love, to serve, to worship and to journey, together.

sleep in heavenly peace
sleep in heavenly peace