The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Decked Out (15 page)

I folded the Hickmans' towels, one by one, trying to meditate on the Christmas story. But I found myself thinking about Hakim, who just happened to show up on our doorstep unannounced, two and a half years after I'd been his third grade teacher.
Jesus, I don't
understand why You brought Hakim back into my life right now. I
mean, it's not as if he's the only one in the world who could shovel our
walks. Why Hakim? Why now? A quirky coincidence? Or . . . did You
send him for a reason? I'm worried about him, Lord. Please protect him.
Don't let anyone hurt him.

The Voice in my spirit was assuring.
Keep your eyes and your ears
tuned to My Voice, Jodi. You'll understand the reason . . .

I put the last folded towel back into the basket and reached for my Bible. I'd been reading Paul's letter to the Colossians in the New Testament ever since Avis quoted something from that book to encourage me a week or two ago. But now was as good a time as any to reread the Christmas story from Luke's Gospel.

The familiar words brought with them a flood of memories. The first time a youth group leader in our Bible church back in Des Moines, Iowa, had told us Mary was probably a teenager, maybe fifteen or sixteen, just like some of us, we were deliciously scandalized. Pregnant! No husband! No one believed her, of course. Not Joseph. Not her parents—

Huh.
At the time, I always identified with poor, misunderstood Mary. But what about her parents? The Bible didn't say anything about her parents. But they must have been so disappointed. And then terrified. What if Joseph denounced their daughter's “unfaithfulness” and had her stoned? But he was a good man, who said he would just break off the engagement “quietly.” And then, the next thing they knew, Joseph wanted a hurry-up wedding. He would take responsibility for the child as his own! Because (he said) an angel had told him in a dream not to be afraid.

Their parents must have thought they were crazy!

Just like me . . .

The Bible slipped from my lap. I stared at the stable, the humble birthplace of Jesus, under the tree. Joseph and Mary had put themselves on the line for a Baby who messed up all their plans—just like Josh and Edesa were doing for little Gracie. Even though their parents and others didn't understand. Even though there was “no room in the inn” for them . . .

It's time, Jodi,
whispered the Voice in my spirit.
Time to make
room in the inn of your heart for this hurry-up wedding and this
unconventional child.

14

I
can't explain it. It was almost as if an angel had shown up in
my
living room and said,
“Don't be afraid. The child I'm
giving to Edesa and Josh is God's child, and I've chosen them
to be her parents.”

Nothing had changed . . . and yet a sweet joy started to bubble up within my spirit, tiny flutters of excitement reminiscent of the magic I used to feel as a child at Christmastime—except this was
real
Christmas, and the exhilaration was deeper and more urgent. I wanted to run . . . run like the shepherds and tell somebody, tell everybody, that what the angel said was true! God was alive among His people, working out His purpose—and I didn't need to be afraid!

Instead, I made a beeline for the kitchen phone as fast as my gimpy foot allowed, and dialed Josh's cell phone. It rang six times before he picked up. “Yeahumph?”

“Josh? Oh. Did I wake you?”

Two seconds of silence. “Mom. It's only, uh . . . 6:50.”

“I'm sorry. Just wanted to tell you that you and Edesa are doing the right thing—going ahead with the wedding and the adoption, I mean. God told me it's all right.”

Another brief silence. “Thanks, Mom. That means a lot.

Really.”

“School doesn't let out until Friday, which is a huge bummer! But if there's anything I can do . . . ”

“I'm sure there'll be something, Mom. Just take care of your-self.” I heard a click.

I hung up the phone sheepishly. “Huh. That was kind of dumb, waking him up just to tell him that,” I murmured aloud, the way I used to do when Willie Wonka was underfoot. But I grinned. I didn't care. Back in the living room, I put on a CD of Christmas carols by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, selected the funky Caribbean track I liked, and turned up the volume.
“Christ-mas!
Christ-mas! First day of the Son . . . !”
Made me want to dance.

It was time for Denny and Amanda to get up anyway if we were going to get to church on time.

Not that they came out of their bedrooms singing and dancing. In fact, I got a bleary look from Amanda on her way to the bathroom, and a shout from Denny: “Jodi! Where's my bathrobe?”

I tossed Denny's robe into the bedroom and headed for the kitchen in my sleepshirt to make waffles. On my way through the dining room, I lit the fourth candle on our table Advent wreath and smiled. Well, let Denny and Amanda hear their own angel.

THE TEENS HAD decorated the sanctuary after the potluck last Sunday, and the room glowed. White lights outlined the large “storefront” windows, garlands of artificial greens and more lights adorned the walls, and a stunning banner in purple, red, and gold hung on the wall behind the low platform, proclaiming IMMANUEL! GOD WITH US ~ WONDERFUL COUNSELOR,MIGHTY GOD, EVERLASTING FATHER, PRINCE OF PEACE.

I drank it in, reflecting on each of the beautiful names of Jesus. But curiosity got the best of me. I said aloud to no one in particular, “Who made the beautiful banner?”

“Estelle Williams, I am told,” said a familiar accent behind me.

The hairs on my neck stood up, as if someone had shuffled their feet across a carpet and zapped me with static. I whirled.

“Hoshi!”
I screeched, throwing my arms around the tall, willowy young woman standing behind me. Then I held her at arm's length, drinking in the very sight of her. Hoshi Takahashi's jet-black hair hung long and silky down to her shoulders, softening her long face. Her bow-shaped smile pushed up her cheeks, turning her almond eyes into happy slits. “Hoshi Takahashi, you nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here? When did you get back? You didn't tell us!”

“She told
me
.” Peter Douglass leaned over Hoshi's shoulder and grinned. “I picked her up at O'Hare last night.”

“So Avis . . . where's Avis! She knew, too, and didn't tell us?”

Peter moved off, chuckling.

“I am so happy to see you again, Jodi!” Hoshi took both of my hands in her long, slim ones. “I have missed Yada Yada so much. When I got Edesa's e-mail about the wedding, I could not wait.” She glanced around the large room. “Will Josh and Edesa be here today?”

I giggled. “I don't know. I don't know anything! They're trying to plan a wedding . . . trying to move . . . trying to adopt . . . it's been a bit crazy around here.”

I saw Florida and crew coming in the door, letting in a blast of frigid air, with Stu and Estelle right behind them and knew bedlam would break out when they saw Hoshi. I grabbed her in one last hug. “Oh, Hoshi, thank you so much for coming home.”

THE ADVENT DANCERS that Sunday were even lovelier than before. Their dance was relaxed and lyrical, and I caught them glancing at Amanda, their dance coach, proud to show how well she had taught them. The lighting of a candle as we sang each verse of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” heightened the sense of expectation that had been building all month. And then the fourth candle was lit as we sang:

O come, Desire of nations, bind

All peoples in one heart and mind . . .

A promise yet to be fulfilled? It seemed like God had a long way to go to “bind all peoples” into one heart and mind. And yet—it
was
happening, in spite of governments and war and politics. Hoshi had come to us as a student from Japan . . . Edesa from Honduras . . . Nony had gone back to South Africa . . . I grew up in Iowa . . . Florida and Yo-Yo had been raised on the streets of Chicago . . . Delores's extended family was still in Mexico . . . Chanda had immigrated from Jamaica. Every one my sister because of Jesus. Jesus
had
made us one.

I was drained by the time the service was over. Even the scripture that morning from Isaiah 40 had rained like new words on my ears: “‘Comfort, yes, comfort My people!' says your God . . . the crooked places shall be made straight, and the rough places smooth; the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.”

I still wasn't sure what had happened to me that morning. I couldn't begin to explain it to Denny, or to my Yada Yada sisters who swarmed all over Hoshi after the service, excited to meet at Avis's apartment that night and hear all about her months in Japan. All I knew is that the reality of
Immanuel—“God with us”
was not just something that happened two thousand years ago, but was still happening right now, in my life—me, Jodi Marie Baxter—and I felt comforted.

AVIS'S THIRD-FLOOR CONDO—she and Peter had moved into a lovely, red-brick building that had been renovated—felt like a secret hideaway tucked up among the treetops, although in winter only bare branches sheltered her exposed windows from the third-floor apartments across the street. But the gleaming wood floors, patterned area rugs, bookshelves, and tan-and-black leather furniture always invited me to unclutter my mind and drink in the calm.

However, Avis's apartment was anything but calm by the time all of us Yada Yadas crowded into the Douglass's living room that evening, talking all at once. Oh, wait. I didn't see Becky Wallace! When I asked Florida if she was coming, she shrugged. “Doesn't have a babysitter for Little Andy. Told that girl she shoulda stayed put.” Oh dear. No car, no babysitter . . . surely she could figure out
something.

Edesa showed up
without
Carmelita's baby. My soon-to-be daughter-in-law grinned at me. “Josh is babysitting. He might as well get used to changing diapers.”

I giggled nervously. Hearing “Josh” and “changing diapers” in the same sentence was one more shock to my system. But I gave her a hug and whispered in her ear, the same message I had phoned to Josh early that morning. Her eyes teared up as she smiled and hugged me back.

With only a week until Christmas, the turnout for Yada Yada surprised me. Of course. Hoshi was back! Chatter swirled around her. Did she have a chance to talk to her parents again before she left? Did she think her aunt or younger sisters would come to Chicago to visit? When did her campus training begin? Where was she staying?

“She's staying with
us
for the moment,” Avis broke in, coming into the room carrying a cake loaded with whipped cream and fruit. “This is a welcome-home treat, Hoshi. I hope I didn't mas-sacre it too badly.”

Hoshi's eyes widened when she saw the cake. “A Japanese Christmas cake!” She laughed when she saw the questions in our eyes. “Many Japanese celebrate Christmas, even though most are not Christians. But my family usually bought our Christmas cake.”

The cake was a marvel, like a sponge cake with strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and peaches not only on top but in the middle. Where Avis found fresh berries in Chicago in December was beyond me. Florida poked me as Avis cut the cake. “Didn't know Avis could make anythang 'cept mac 'n cheese,” she murmured.

I snickered. “You're so bad, Flo.”

Avis finally managed to call us together by beginning our prayer time with the chorus to “O Come, All Ye Faithful.”We all joined in the slow, worshipful words:
“O come, let us adore Him, O
come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Hi-im, Chri-ist, the Lord.”
As the chorus ended, Avis rephrased the words and we kept singing:
“For He alone is worthy, for He alone is worthy, for He alone
is worthy-y, Chri-ist the Lord.”

After worship, Hoshi shared more about her plans to join International Student Outreach on American campuses, starting with her training in January. “But I am so happy to have a few weeks just to be with Yada Yada, my first spiritual family. Although, I was hoping Nonyameko would be here. Is she not coming after all?”

“Yes! She's coming!” several of us chorused, although I was worried. We still hadn't heard when, exactly, the Sisulu-Smiths were arriving.

“Dat sista
better
come home!” Chanda folded her arms. “'Cause we planning a big reunion party on de New Year, an' mi already bought a dress an' shoes.”

“But that was before we knew Edesa was gettin' married,” Yo-Yo protested. “I don't want to get dressed up
twice
in the same week—”

The whole room hooted and burst into laughter. The most any of us had seen Yo-Yo “dressed up” was a new pair of overalls at Avis's wedding.

“—unless I can wear my overalls to—”