I am slumped into the couch. So tired. Sooo happy. Such a good day. Really a good month, even with the hard stuff.

I love Christmas. I believe I mentioned that. This year, there were two pieces of the story that I couldn’t shake, that hovered at the forefront of my mind.

I identified with Mary very closely. I kept thinking of her physical feelings, her emotions at being an (unmarried) first time mother. (By the way – how do you think that conversation with the parents went?) Closing my eyes and thinking of her in labor …. in a cave/stable/animal dwelling. The smell, the temperature, the dust … the pain. Cleaning, or trying to clean him. Nursing him for the first time. How sweet that moment is. Or scary, or frustrating, or overwhelming. Unwashed teenage boys traipsing in to see her wee man. Was she scared? Happy? Layer that with the knowledge of who her infant son actually was and …. oh man.

Chris Tomlin sings a version of Joy to the World that includes the phrase “unspeakable joy.” I’ve had that in my life a few times. When Pete proposed (Literally the first time in my life I was speechless:), when I saw J after Kosovo … I think maybe that’s how Mary felt?

I just love knowing that Jesus had a mommy who did mommy things like nursing, and wiping bottoms, and soothing tears, and swaying to calm Him, and loving His smiles … all the while knowing He was never really hers. Can you imagine ….

Which leads to sacrifice. The knowing and willing sacrifice of our Heavenly Father. The unknowing, but obedient sacrifice of Joseph, and of His mommy, of Mary. I think about Bug, about H, and I grieve at the unexpected loss of lives not yet lived. I think of J Girl and Wee Man and how I would move heaven and earth to protect my sweet babes. I cannot fathom the depths of love and grace poured out on me by a Father who would offer up His own Son to save me.  But oh I am grateful. Breathing in deep my sweet son smell and kissing his sweet face and knowing two thousand years ago His mommy did the same in the knowledge that her Babe was unlike any other.

Unspeakable joy. Unspeakable gratitude. Eucharisto. 


Today was a good day. The days leading up to it were good days. We had made a fun advent countdown calendar designed to countdown days, provide fun family activities, and teach J Girl about giving, about sacrifice. We’re getting there … it’s a process. She was super excited about putting together an Operation Christmas Child shoebox because she was convinced the little girl we were shopping for was eagerly doing the same for us. Had to explain that one a few times:)

We shopped for needy children, made a boatload of treats, read Christmas stories, watched Christmas movies, made candy cane playdough for friends, made candy cane reindeer with friends,

strung the incredibly time-consuming, wound inducing popcorn-cranberry garland, and failed spectacularly at making a gingerbread house. It was Christmas carnage. I bought the kit at Wal-Mart, thinking in my naivete that it would be easier/less complicated? than purchasing individual items. Upon removing the pieces, they immediately started to crumble. Red flag number one. Mom made some valiant attempts to glue them together with the industrial strength “icing” but no luck.

I replaced one roof portion with tin foil, veering into gingerbread shanty territory.

Red flag number two. It collapsed. We tried again, recklessly gluing gingerbread slabs together with no regard for form or function.

J Girl told Granmom, “I like ‘sfending’ time with you.” Success!

Seriously????

The best part was picking through the carnage later and finding the “EZ Build” plastic tray [used to make the walls stand up] in the garbage. Untouched.

I like ‘sfending’ time with my J Girl.

Woven throughout our celebration was the bittersweet loss of Bug. After we saw the doctor two and a half weeks ago, I started the physical miscarriage almost immediately. It was challenging … it has only just finished yesterday and today. The pregnancy hormones combined with the initial uncertainty,  physical discomfort, and drawn out process made for some very difficult days.

Now that it is over, I feel relief. I am still grieving, the Bug sized piece of my heart always will. I know from experience. With the next sweet babe, when the doctor says, “Is your third pregnancy?”  I have to say, “No, it’s my fifth. Two live children.” Five years removed from H and that still pricks my heart.

I am searching out the blessings now–God is so good. He has used my dear friends to write beautiful words of encouragement to me that have resonated with the hearts of many. He has provided opportunities for me to pray for others, and rejoice when He said yes to them and no to me. He has reminded me to revel over the babes I have, to be grateful that my body produces life, has produced life four times, when people I know and love fight for even just one life.

God is good all the time, all the time God is good. Eucharisto.

Today was a precious day. I don’t always get to be with my husband on this day. And, if you are keeping count, this is the first year in seven we have spent both Thanksgiving and Christmas together. Bonus: Both holidays were in our own home! We were fortunate to have Poppa and Granmom Maddox with us this week and Gigi [Momma Huggs] is on her way for New Years. Anyway, after sausage balls, Luke chapter 2, and stockings, we made the trek to Oak Hills for a simple and sweet Christmas Day service then headed home for presents. J Girl is rolling in art supplies and various Tangled related items. She was predictably excited to open all her presents but it was so sweet to see her excitement in giving the gifts she had picked for us.

Maybe the giving part is sinking in a tiny bit. Wee Man has a few new homemade toys. Daddy has some new running gear, some new hunting ge–I HAVE A NEW CAMERA LENS. Nope, not excited at all. Prepare to be deluged.

We had our best neighbor friends come and play the rest of the day – no turkey here, just Alaska salmon, fancy cheese, veggies, crackers, chocolate, or as I like to call it … “heaven.” I’m afraid I might have peaked a little early in my turkey cooking career after Thanksgiving. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to top it.

So I’m here, on the couch. So happy, so grateful. Thankful for what I have, thankful for the sacrifices of others. Unspeakable joy.

Happy Birthday Jesus.

~M.

P.S.  A few more pictures …