the other eleven months

                Aahhhh……back to rhythm and routine.  My kids may not have been ready to head back to school, but I welcomed our entrance back into the real world after a couple of weeks off.  For many people, Christmas is not an easy time of the year.  I even know a couple of people who flat out hate it – and until recently I didn't really understand how that could be.  I certainly don’t hate Christmas, but this year felt hard, a touch more bitter than sweet.   My to-do lists felt more like chores than happy traditions, and I crossed some items off the lists without even completing them – I just wanted to get rid of them!  Preparations that I enjoyed in the past felt like work this year, and more than once I was aware of this pressure.  

               Pressure to create amazing moments, to fulfill desires and exceed 

expectations, to make this the hap-happiest season of all – I even felt pressure

 to have profound quiet times in front of my Christmas tree.  

A couple of times the thought crossed my mind, So much effort

 is put into everything at Christmas, but what about

 the other eleven months of the year?

  

                I understand why some people struggle with the pressures and expectations, with the feelings stirred up by memories of times and people that are no longer with us.  Yes, at times this Christmas felt hard.

                Hard because I was tired, from outside stressors and struggles within.  Hard because I miss my Mom and everything about Christmas reminds me of her.  Our family went to Shedd Aquarium the weekend before Christmas with my niece, her husband, and their two young children.  The kids were so excited to see the dolphins, and I was having a wonderful time with our family, totally wrapped up in the moment.  The aquatic show was adapted for the holidays, and this fantastic folk trio walked out strumming guitars and caroling.  It felt magical, and when they started singing Frosty the Snowman, Frosty himself came out and was dancing all ‘round, and before I knew what was happening I was crying.  I couldn’t stop the tears.  Frosty made me think of my mom and how much she loved Christmas, and I could hear her singing thumpity-thump-thump, thumpity-thump-thump, look at Frosty go…

                 I began to remember all sorts of things from when I was younger. 

 How she convinced me one night as we were leaving my grandmother’s house

 that we had actually seen Santa, his sleigh, and his reindeer flying across the night sky. 

 I saw it with my own eyes!  Or the time she showed us animal tracks in the snow 

and was certain they belonged to Rudolph.  Or the thud we heard on the roof on Christmas Eve – surely it was the reindeer touching down, and we’d better get to bed!  

Sweetness and sadness dance together when I remember.  

My heart aches, but I am comforted and filled with hope and joy 

as I come to the manger, 

open my heart, 

and receive my King.

                It’s a question worth asking again.  What about the rest of the year?  We've packed up our nativity sets and stored them away, but what do we do with the Christ we celebrated and worshipped at Christmas?  As we head into 2015 everyone is talking about how we can start anew.  Resolutions are being made, and while it is good to set goals, make necessary changes, and strive for wellness in every area of our lives, here is that nagging pressure again, seeking to inch its way into my soul.  Be better.  Get better.  Do better.

    

                This year I am seeking one thing above all else: 

 I have worshipped at the manger, now I want to follow and walk 

with the God who became flesh, the One who gave His life for me so I could truly live.  

 I want to abide and remain in Him, every day.

                
                   There is this notion that we need to leave behind all the pain and sadness of 2014 as we move into the new year.  As if we could just shut the door and instantly be transported to somewhere we are not.  But if we are to really walk with Christ, then we come as we are.  We don’t have to pretty it up, get rid of our limp, or pretend.  Why should I despise my tears if God says they are precious to Him and He stores them in His bottle? (Psalm 56:8) Why should I resist trials that come my way when James says to count them all joy, because they shape me and make me mature and complete in Christ? (James 1:2-4)  I want to walk with Jesus, Emmanuel, the Man of Sorrows, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace.  The Way, the Truth, and the Life.  When I open myself to His love and peace, when I surrender to His will for me in 2015, it doesn't really matter what may or may not happen, and it's not at all about me doing better, or being better.  I am secure and complete in Him.

                Are you limping into the New Year?  It’s OK.  Jesus wants you to walk with Him.  Can you trust that He will continue the good work He began in you, and will transform your pain into something beautiful?   

                 

Happy Old Year!

I have a ritual that I do in early January, sort of an Old Year tradition. Rather than looking ahead to the coming year, it involves looking back at the one I just finished. Instead of tossing my old day planner when I buy its replacement, I carve out some time to reflect over the past 12 months.

With steaming coffee in hand, and a pen and journal next

to me, I start in January and work my way through the days,

weeks, and months. I’m reminiscing, observing patterns,

watching dreams and friendships unfold.

Most of what is scribbled on the pages is ordinary – the stuff of everyday living:

soccer practices and dance classes; pay days and ‘pay bills’ days; dentist appointments,

play dates and writing deadlines; Bible verses referenced in margins.

Some things are noteworthy: the blizzard of 2011 and subsequent snow days, my oldest daughter getting braces, family camp, and our trip to Mexico in the summer.

And a few things are extraordinary – monumental, life-changing events─some we have chosen and some we have not. In 2011 we attended two weddings and a funeral. Our dear friends moved to Colorado (what’s so great about Colorado anyway, besides the mountains and the great climate?). My niece gave birth to a daughter. We got a puppy. A whole page of my planner is filled with names we considered, like Flo, Taffy, Chica, and Nola. We finally agreed on Lila. Did I mention that some decisions turn out to be more life-altering than you originally thought?

I made some fun observations: My oldest daughter, Katelyn, wrote me several notes throughout the year, thanking me for being her “chauffeur” and telling me, “Mom, you rock!” Seeing the frequency of her encouraging notes reminds me how important words are to her. This is why my husband and I still write thoughts for her on her white board every night before she goes to sleep. Words are the way she likes to give and receive love.

My first-grade daughter started writing notes too, but they were different in nature. Some said, “I love you, Mommy” but others revealed how important quality time is to her. On November 9th, she wrote, “Spend time together with Brenna.” And on November 23rd, “Pante Brenna’s nails. Brad Brenna’s hair.” This, of course, was the day before Thanksgiving, when we were preparing for a houseful of out-of-town guests. She wrote herself into my schedule because I kept saying, “Maybe later…”

My middle daughter, Claire, doesn’t write notes, but I see her all over the pages of my planner, in the “What’s for Dinner?” sections. She has half-joked that food is her love language, and will often say that dinner is the highlight of her day.

I was shocked to see how often we had Pesto Pizza, with Rachael Ray’s Mile High Lasagna a close second.

Scattered throughout my weeks are intentional “me” moments. Coffee with a friend. Weekly bible study. Time with my husband. Time alone. Exercising. I took a class at Harper college and attended a 4-day writers’ conference. Time for growing, serving, developing friendships, working and resting.

On my 2012 calendar, some things will continue and others will end. Pesto pizza is on the menu again tonight - a double batch - one for us and one to share with another family. But our Almblad Taco Salad Nights will be few and far between with our friends now living half-way across the country. And I plan to stay as far away from my physical therapist as possible in 2012. Our days will be filled with ordinary moments, extraordinary moments, and most likely a few surprises – joyful and painful. Only God knows what this year will bring, and I can say, like David, “But I trust in You, O Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hands.” Psalm 31:14-15b

How about you? When you look over the last year, what are you especially thankful for? What do you want to continue? What do you want to change? What do you need more or less of? Is your heart at peace because you are trusting in Him, knowing that your times are in His hands?