Wendi {at random}

Christmas was heralded in Sunday at 6:59 a.m. The sunlight was beginning to creep in through the blinds. I lay awake, barely, Emma hogging more than her third of the bed. Curt snored lightly. Then before I could rustle the flannel sheets, Emma startled as the boys rushed into the room. I struggled to keep Emma on the bed, knowing full well that if she managed to get downstairs, she'd bark incessantly till somebody let her outside. That's no way to begin Christmas morn. 

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!" the boys bellowed, and they climbed up on the bed and snuggled for a half second before running off to get up Mammaw and Pappaw. I didn't know it, but they'd been up for hours at this point. Nobody's quite sure how many.

Within an hour every package was opened, most every speck of wrapping was in the garage, and coffee was half-gone. It may sound like this morning was a rushed exercise in consumerism, but it wasn't. This was, for me, the first Christmas I chose to relish each moment. Yes, relish.

That nanosecond of snuggling with my boys. That look of utter shock and glee when Camden saw his Barnesey Nook Color nestled in a giant Amazon.com box. Curt's smile as he read the dedication on the book I had written for him. Benjy's prayer before dinner: "God, thank you for Jesus."  I wanted to hold each of these moments close to my heart and remember them for what they were - blessings from God.

You see, Christmas has been building for weeks now. And I have been praying that the season wouldn't kill the spirit this year, as I've let it in years past. God, please let me remember your present, your presence, your love.

So I addressed the cards and mailed them with a happy heart. I didn't worry if I ran out of time to make the buckeye candies I liked to pass out at school. Oh well. I wrapped a little at at time and didn't even bother with bows. And the presents looked just fine. I made two nativities with my school kids because you just can't get enough of Jesus. 

And I kept praying. Not long-winded fancy prayers. More often they were quick driving-to-school tuning-out-the-noise-of-boys prayers. Happy praises lifted to God when Benjy declared, "I love God more than you!" Tearful prayers as a 2nd grader and I wrapped our arms around each other for the last time. She's moving away after Christmas. Her sweet hug was especially tender. There was that Christmas Eve disappointment before church that God turned into a prayer request that he will answer. He promises he will.

And so on Christmas day, I tried to keep those prayers and praises  ringing. Even when the caffeine had worn off. Even when my bare foot stomped down on a tiny brown Lego. Even while I raced to finish The Girl With The Dragon Tatoo that night (cause I had to start The Girl Who Played With Fire). 

And do you know what I noticed? It was my first Christmas when I didn't feel the Post Christmas Letdown. I didn't set out to NOT feel it necessarily. But I think that focusing on God's blessings and promises left no room for anything else. 

Thank you Father God for letting me experience your love in such a real way this Christmas. 

I'd share pictures of this blessed day, but the camera battery died on the first photo. Good thing I'm holding the memories close to my heart.

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