Christmas

It was a strange Christmas for me.  Typically we don't talk about that--we are all about celebrating the birth of the Savior and why should we even begin to seem "off" about the giving and receiving of gifts?  "Be grateful" we tell ourselves and rightly so.  We make comments about good food and eating too much.  We take lots of pictures.  We debate about when to take down the decorations.  My kids are sitting at the table with Gary right now putting together Legos I received for Christmas.  (Gary gave me a Lego set for Christmas--funny!)  It should make my heart all so full and happy.  It does.

But Christmas was strange.

First off, we missed a week of it.  Vacationing the week after Thanksgiving threw me in regards to timing and decorations and Christmas cards, and just feeling it.  Because my time was shorter than usual, I feel like I missed out on something.  I didn't realize that this would happen.  It isn't bad--it just felt weird to me.  I felt like my preparations were rushed. . . like Christmas was sneaky.  I wouldn't trade the vacation and the memories with Grandma Karen. . . I'm just stating the strangeness of it.

Second, we were missing someone.  I don't know Michael.  I don't know how he sounds or what he feels like when I hug him.  I couldn't recognize his voice.  Yet I missed him.  Gary and I both shed tears as we gazed at the photo of our son and hung up his stocking.  We bought him gifts and shipped them off with a prayer.  When we were waiting for Simon, we didn't ever experience this.  Over two Christmases we were waiting for a girl and would get assigned one when our number came up.  God changed our hearts in June and we had Simon by November.  So although we hung up a stocking for our Chinese child while we waited, we didn't have a face.  Michael has a face, and we spent Christmas without him and he spent Christmas without us.  It stinks.

Christmas morning I walked to the road to retrieve the newspaper.  I stood for awhile and praised my Creator who sent His Son.  It must have been so very hard. . . and I must be so very loved.  I wouldn't give up any one of my sons for anyone, especially knowing I would be sending them to a place worse than where they were.  Christ left heaven.  Christ took on flesh and the limits of flesh.  I'm feeling the ache of my missing son and it doesn't even begin to compare with my Father God.  I stand in amazement.

I will always remember this strange Christmas. . .it helped me see a new aspect of the birth of Christ.  For that I am thankful.