Saturday, December 21, 2019

Midnight Musings Amidst the Season of Hope

FYI:  This is not quilt related. And kinda personal and sappy.





 

First a confession. 


I love Christmas. 


I love everything about it. I love that it's a beautiful time of year filled with hope and joy. I love the traditions, the hymns and carols. I love the food and indulgences. And I'm going to get real, I even enjoy the crazy chaos that seems to enter my life at this time of year. 

As I was sitting in our great room with a gray kitty purring on my lap, the lights off but for the tree and garlands; a sappy Hallmark moving playing softly in the background I spent a little time reflecting.  I have a man that loves me, even the icky parts; I've had another birthday that reminded me I'm still cancer free and here. (That alone is a miracle - not once but three times) I have friends that have become my family; I have a tribe of friends that support me even when I don't know I need it or deserve it. I'm beyond blessed. Truly blessed.




 

What I chose not to focus on is the brokenness in my own family. The people that are supposed to love you but don't. The people who are supposed to have your back but will sometimes take up sharp objects instead. Or sharp words. Friends too. People that let you down. I've made peace with them and all of that "stuff" and honestly, I choose joy. Very few of us have a Hallmark family. But we have a choice and I choose not to own that stuff. Not my dog, don't have to walk it. It's part of life for many of us. But instead of dwelling on what a loss those things are to me, I choose to focus on the wonderful people that have become my family.  I think God did an amazing thing when he created us to have friends.  Friends are the family you choose.


A couple of weeks ago I got out my mother's recipe box and started pulling out the cookie recipes that have been made in my family for decades. I love baking and giving them as gifts just makes me happy so I wanted to be sure I had all the supplies I would need. I lost my mother when I was in a senior high school on the 12th of December.  She was sick and battled breast cancer from the time I was 9 years old. Pulling out those recipe cards well worn and stained, written in her hand was beyond bittersweet. As luck would have it, it was December 12th. I was alone as my ski racer was out of town on business, I had sappy Christmas music on the stereo, the tree was lit up and well it just sort of hit me...I was a hot sobbing mess and I couldn't stop. I'm pushing 60 so when this happens it's a shock after so many years.  I'm convinced when there is grief like that, there has been great love.

Some years are like that.  

After my meltdown I was so thankful that the person who shall not be named did not toss the box when she married my dad just a few short months after my mom died. I'm so thankful I have those cards - such a small thing but they are a reminder yet again how blessed I am. Even though I had her for such a short time she made her mark and so many of the things I do today are things she taught me or things I watched her do. She left a legacy that I'm grateful for. And recipe cards.

 

After my evening of quiet time I realized that the lights on our pre-lit tree had partially burned out. I was a bit shocked because it's only the 2nd Christmas. Since I'm hosting Christmas Eve and Christmas day dinners and a brunch on New Years I wanted to get the burnt string replaced. My Martha Stewart was showing. 

It's 6 days till Christmas. I hit the first store and didn't realize that there were both warm and white LED lights.  Yep you guessed it, I bought the wrong ones. So the next day I head over to our local grocery-everything store and figure they would have them. Nope, not an LED light to be had. Ditto with Lowes right next door, ditto with the local Ace Hardware so I figure I have no choice but to drive across town to the Menards where I bought the wrong ones and exchange them. 

I spent a whole afternoon in search of LED lights and I realized that this is what happens to many of us during the Christmas season.  We are searching for perfection. We have some idea about what needs to happen before we can celebrate.  Before we can enjoy the real meaning and hope of the season. Isn't that an ironic thing? We are all broken in some way, some more than others, just like the lights on my tree.  Perhaps it's between friends or family, or it's our health, our our finances or even a pre-lit Christmas tree. And yet we waste precious time chasing that perfection or trying to fix it when, in the big picture it never mattered to begin with. 


On my way back to Menards I was sitting at a light in a part of town I would not normally be in after dark and I looked over at a building I had been to a couple of times.  It's a shelter for women and children that have been through some tough stuff, whether it's drugs, abusive home situations, homelessness or any other thing you can think of. We've partnered with them many times.  I saw a vehicle pull up to the door that had some years on it, a slight woman jumped out and grabbed a couple of clear garbage bags full of wrapped gifts.  I could only assume they were donated for the residents of that shelter. A man with a "security" vest on came out to help her unload her vehicle. 

My first thought was how awesome there are still people in the world who choose to share the blessings in their life with those who have less or in some cases nothing and my second thought was to pray over those gifts that they would be a bright spot in the life of the recipient. My last thought was to look for more ways to share not only what's in my wallet but also my life. To listen for those little voices that prompt me to send a card or a small gift...or even my homemade sea salt caramels. To find more ways to give my time. My skills. And perhaps, even the reason I have hope. My faith.  And all of that came out of my search for light when in fact it's already the most important part of my life and all this other stuff is just details, even the broken bits.


May the light that shined over that manger a couple thousand years ago be visible in new ways to you this Christmas.  Even if you believe differently than me, may that belief bring you to a place of joy like you've never felt before. And lastly thank you for being part of my life.

God Bless and Merry Christmas.

Love Linda


P.S.  I may or may not get that string of lights replaced before our guests arrive. I've decided to spend the rest of the weekend baking gifts to take to some seniors who might enjoy a sweet surprise and just the thought of that makes my heart happy.