Twelve Days of Christmas

On the twelfth day of Christmas, Old Man Murphy gave to me:

12 childrens' movies

11 loads of laundry

10 days of antibiotics

9 chapter books read

8 days indoors

7 trips to Target

6 days of fever

5 PRESCRIPTIONS!

4 dozen nebulizer treatments

3 sick kids

2 worn out parents

And a white Christmas not to be enjoyed.

It was not what we hoped, worse than what I feared, but there were still precious moments this holiday. To name a few: Kate leaning against the sliding door watching her neighborhood friends play in the snow Sunday, but not getting to play in it herself as she was recovering from walking pneumonia. Nancy pressing her snotty nose against her window to look at the snow, too sick to care about playing in it. Cuddling with my baby boy, too sick and tired to stay awake for even 30 minutes.

We were still able to enjoy Christmas Eve with Ryan's parents, and our Christmas Eve worship service with our church. My favorite gift was from my dad - a framed box containing the medals my grandfather wore on his uniform at our wedding, the last time he wore them. Watching my grandmother love on her seventh and youngest great-grandchild.

I had to let go of the nostalgia that Christmas time brings to my mind and instead embrace in a fresh way the reality that God sent His Son Jesus so that we can have One who can relate to us, who has been through what we have suffered and experienced, so that God can relate to us.

A few of my favorite snapshots:

Kate's elation over her American Girl doll. There were tears of joy.

Monie and Thomas.

Sick and tired boy. Worried mom.

New Christmas gifts made breathing treatments "fun".

Oh happy day! The Christmas tree is being kicked to the curb!

Snow, and trying to make a happy memory.

"Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what He suffered. And being made perfect he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him."

Hebrews 5:9