The Monkey Barrel

Archive for December, 2009

Merry Christmas and Happy New year!

This is the first year I’ve forgotten. Usually the date stands out on the calendar for me. You would have been 5 this year. I wonder who you were and if you were another son or a daughter. I was so excited when I realized you were coming and had planned a special way to tell everyone at the holidays. Even your dad. It was the first time I’d ever been able to keep that kind of secret. Usually I see those 2 pink lines and I can’t contain myself and have to tell the whole world. But nearly as soon as I knew, at 9 weeks, you were gone . I had to take John with me to the doctors office and call your Uncle Matt to get hold of your dad to meet me there. And I had to tell your dad that you were coming and then you were gone all in the same moment. It was so awful. It was emotionally and physically one of the worst days of my life. And until this year, the day comes and I remember you and wonder about you and find myself jealous that God has you up there with Him and you can’t be here with us and your brothers. But this year it’s nearly a week past and I’m not sure what finally reminded me. I wonder if you’ve met your grandaddy up there already and if you two get to play with each other. He’s an awesome guy and you get to have him exactly as he ought to be. I’m really jealous of that too. You two get to share this Christmas together for the first time. How great is that?? It’s hard not to be sad missing you both so very much, but I have great peace knowing the hurt will be a little less as the years go by and as the years pass I am closer to meeting you and being reunited with all of the family I love that has gone on. I miss you little one. Momma loves you. Merry Christmas

It has not felt like Christmas this year. My heart full of dread since Thanksgiving, wondering how I”m going to put a face on for the boys and pull myself into holiday cheer for their sakes when not one fiber of my being feels the least bit celebratory. Lights have gone up early everywhere, Christmas music has been playing since October it seems and people are bustling about baking and shopping and anticipating. Everyone but me. I have been procrastinating. Putting things off til I can’t possibly ignore it anymore and the kids are begging. I have at least 3 meltdowns privately a day. Where my heart breaks and the tears come spilling out in floods and I cannot stave them off a minute more and find a quiet place to let them run as I hide it. No one wants to see you down at the holidays. I don’t wanna constantly remind people of the losses this year and become a constant pitty party. But grief is an arduous and long process that seems never to have an end in sight. It isn’t just the first Christmas without dad, this year has been so full of eternal goodbyes, and friends moving away, and family members with major illnesses and tragedy and grief have been a constant procession. Just when I think my heart will get a break or a rest, some new catastrophe rips it open again and I feel I will never break free of the awfulness.
But I look back and realize that even in the midst of the pain of this year, there have been moments of such pure joy that my cup has been full to overflowing. Our children have grown in knowledge and in character and their accomplishments bring me such pride in their achievements. And while they have moments where they don’t listen and you repeatedly have to remind them to do certain chores or homework or other things, they have moments of such tenderness and thankfullness that I stand amazed at who they are becoming. There are moments when Luke prays and the honesty in his heart is humbling and inspiring. When the guitar in John’s hands transforms him as the music envelopes him and he takes flight in the melodies. You can see the greatness he will be, burgeoning inside of him. I walk in in the morning and the delight beaming out of Noah’s eyes is palpable and tangible. He is bright and funny and theatrical, and a dare devil full of mischief and schemes even at this early an age. Every day there is some reminder in them of how much God must love me to have chosen Fred for my husband he and I to be their parents and to have chosen them to be our kids.
I started writing this about a week ago and our shopping is mostly done, we’ve done a bit of baking, attended several Christmas events. But it is two events in particular that have perched the spirit of Christmas into my soul. The first was a concert, an opportunity to corporately worship the Lord and remember the magnitude of what His birth meant. As the music ebbed and swelled my heart was carried to His throne and I could stand before Him and see the tears in His eyes as He wept in remembrance of this year with me. I knew that He stood with me through every terrible and awful minute and authored every good and perfect joy to whisper His love and His faithfulness into my bruised heart.
The other event was a play that a dear friend of mine and her daughters performed in. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, has been my absolute favorite Christmas story for a long long time and last year I bought her girls the book. They saw a flier at their school for a local theater house who was putting it on and insisted to their mother they had to try out. The girls each scored parts and Elaine was given the main role and anyone who knows her wouldn’t find that a shock. She was insanely amazing. The transformation of Elaine to Grace was seemless. But as I sat in the beautiful little playhouse watching the show, listening to the kids explaining to the rag tag bunch of forgotten children the story of Christmas, God was reminding me yet again what this season means to those who believe. I watched the Herdmans discover their own worth in the birth of a child who had every right to come in all His kingly glory and claim every throne on earth and command all the riches contained here, and yet he came so humbly, so relateably, so much like themselves.
A star in the sky announced to the world that our Savior was born and those outside God’s first chosen family were being adopted in to His bloodline, to become His children. Emmanuel come to earth as man to experience our hurts and pain, and to rescue us from every minute of our self destructive behaviors. He came and left homeless, owning nothing, giving everything. He came, the Creator of the universe, not as a great and noble king, but as a cold, hungry, baby, born to parents who were overwhelmed and confused and tired and dirty and who had nothing but themselves to offer Him. He came as a servant to us all. Seeking to heal our wounds, bind our hurts, fill our bellies, cleanse our hearts, and save our souls. And in the end, Santa, the presents, the lights, the cookies, the dinners, the family dramas, the painful memories, the everyday crushing life experiences, don’t matter one iota, because the King of all came humbly to ask me what He could do for me. To single me out, to call me by name, to love me completely, fully, with every breath of His life, death and resurrection, He became mine, and I am His and I strive daily to live in Him so that you see where He begins, and I end.
So I close wishing a Merry Christmas to you all and may you find the Savior in the manger, has come to you, to single you out, to call you by name, to dry your tears, to heal your hurts and bind your wounds, to love you completely, fully, graced with His life, redeemed in His death, and eternal with His resurrection, all to save you, to make you His own, even if you were the only one guided by the star to kneel at the manger,