Dec. 23, 2006 - The Eve of Christmas Eve
The Christmas holidays always get me to thinking about my growing up years. I find it difficult to remember the happy Christmases. I look at pictures of them and wonder what I thought about that year. It is extremely easy for me to remeber the ones after my mom died. They were awkward and somehow empty feeling. I remember the Christmas of '84. My mom had died 4 months earlier and the hurt of that hadn't even begun to heal for me or my dad. Being only 9 and extrememly self-centered, I was sure that I was the only one that was hurting so much. It was 15 years later that I realized the deep love my dad had for her and how the pain of losing her never left him for a moment. Anyway, I remember opening my presents that sat in the place our tree should have been. I smiled, said thank you, and went directly to my room and cried. My poor dad didn't know how to comfort me. I know he always heard me crying myself to sleep. He would ask if I was okay, and I would say yes, but we never talked about our hurt until I was an adult. Six years ago my dad died after living with us for a year and a half. I miss him. I miss how tickled he was when he watched Christopher eat an ice cream cone for the first time. I think Christopher was around 2. I didn't let him have refined sugar before that. 
I even miss how he and Christopher would watch Bonanza together. I wish that I would've let that happen more often, but I was too worried about the effect of the TV and the cheesy violence. My dad wasn't saved. When he first moved in Christopher told him, "Baba, Jesus wub yoo. Bobble says so." My dad just laughed and said that he had done too many bad things for Jesus to love him. So I talked to him about the love of God and what it really means. I told him that God loves even the worst criminals that do the most horrid things. My dad had the opportunity to see God provide new tires for our car from a couple whose car was hit by another car while parked, but the tires were brand new. They didn't even know we needed new tires. My dad was shocked. I miss him. I miss everything about him- his grouchiness, his yelling that he always blamed on having false teeth, his small hands, his claiming to never having tofu even though I served it to him at least once a month, his forcing me to eat breakfast with a bunch of old people at the VFW hall, and him trying to buy me anything he saw on Martha Stewart. (It was on right before The Price is Right gameshow.) I regret never making the wonderful bread pudding he said looked so good on her show. I would love to go back in time to tell him just how much he meant to me. If it weren't for his willingness to adopt me I could have ended up a drug addicted prostitute like my biological mom, his step-daughter.
I've been thinking about what is important in my life. I'm reminded of those things when I think of Missey Grey or Lorrie . One of Christopher's favorite songs is "Christmas Shoes" by NewSong. Its about a little boy who is trying to buy some shoes for his mama who is ill. He wants her to look pretty if she sees Jesus tonight. He and I talked about how important every moment is. Lorrie's family had a little warning, Missey's did not. I knew my dad wasn't in good health and could die at any moment, but there was so much more I wanted to say before he did. I think about how I communicate to my husband and children. We don't know what the future holds. I've been thinking about my marriage a lot. I'll be honest, we've had a difficult marriage and adding 3 kids to the mix has tested the limits. (In no way are the kids responsible for any of the problems, but I think our weaknesses are just quicker to float to the surface now.) I realized (once again) that I must do what I can to build my marriage and not be so concerned with what my husband is doing. I am only in control of my actions and reactions. Life is short. I want to make it good. I know I can't 'fix' all our problems and take away the sin in our lives, but I can certainly work at not making it any worse! Will I be a builder or a destroyer? Will it be easy? Not likely. I love to be right, and I like it even better when that is acknowledged. I'm an arguer, but I want to be a humble peacemaker. My prayer for my family this Christmas is that the God of peace will bring peace to my family and that the Great Physician will heal all our broken places. I ask that the Holy Spirit work in me and through me to help in the healing process of my family. Father, give me wisdom to build up my home and husband.
I have taken forgranted the blessing that my husband is. He works so that I can stay home. He loves me and thinks I'm attractive even though I'm twice the size I should be. Does it really matter if he puts his dirty laundry on the floor next to the the dirty clothes basket? Let us not take forgranted all the blessings we've been given. Let us put on the whole armor of God and enter his gates with thanksgiving and praise!
I even miss how he and Christopher would watch Bonanza together. I wish that I would've let that happen more often, but I was too worried about the effect of the TV and the cheesy violence. My dad wasn't saved. When he first moved in Christopher told him, "Baba, Jesus wub yoo. Bobble says so." My dad just laughed and said that he had done too many bad things for Jesus to love him. So I talked to him about the love of God and what it really means. I told him that God loves even the worst criminals that do the most horrid things. My dad had the opportunity to see God provide new tires for our car from a couple whose car was hit by another car while parked, but the tires were brand new. They didn't even know we needed new tires. My dad was shocked. I miss him. I miss everything about him- his grouchiness, his yelling that he always blamed on having false teeth, his small hands, his claiming to never having tofu even though I served it to him at least once a month, his forcing me to eat breakfast with a bunch of old people at the VFW hall, and him trying to buy me anything he saw on Martha Stewart. (It was on right before The Price is Right gameshow.) I regret never making the wonderful bread pudding he said looked so good on her show. I would love to go back in time to tell him just how much he meant to me. If it weren't for his willingness to adopt me I could have ended up a drug addicted prostitute like my biological mom, his step-daughter. I've been thinking about what is important in my life. I'm reminded of those things when I think of Missey Grey or Lorrie . One of Christopher's favorite songs is "Christmas Shoes" by NewSong. Its about a little boy who is trying to buy some shoes for his mama who is ill. He wants her to look pretty if she sees Jesus tonight. He and I talked about how important every moment is. Lorrie's family had a little warning, Missey's did not. I knew my dad wasn't in good health and could die at any moment, but there was so much more I wanted to say before he did. I think about how I communicate to my husband and children. We don't know what the future holds. I've been thinking about my marriage a lot. I'll be honest, we've had a difficult marriage and adding 3 kids to the mix has tested the limits. (In no way are the kids responsible for any of the problems, but I think our weaknesses are just quicker to float to the surface now.) I realized (once again) that I must do what I can to build my marriage and not be so concerned with what my husband is doing. I am only in control of my actions and reactions. Life is short. I want to make it good. I know I can't 'fix' all our problems and take away the sin in our lives, but I can certainly work at not making it any worse! Will I be a builder or a destroyer? Will it be easy? Not likely. I love to be right, and I like it even better when that is acknowledged. I'm an arguer, but I want to be a humble peacemaker. My prayer for my family this Christmas is that the God of peace will bring peace to my family and that the Great Physician will heal all our broken places. I ask that the Holy Spirit work in me and through me to help in the healing process of my family. Father, give me wisdom to build up my home and husband.
I have taken forgranted the blessing that my husband is. He works so that I can stay home. He loves me and thinks I'm attractive even though I'm twice the size I should be. Does it really matter if he puts his dirty laundry on the floor next to the the dirty clothes basket? Let us not take forgranted all the blessings we've been given. Let us put on the whole armor of God and enter his gates with thanksgiving and praise!
Comments
Dec. 30, 2006 - Christmas Shoes
Posted by AsLivingStones
Dar, I did not know your story before, thanks for sharing. During this Christmas my mind was on yet another mom...Melissa Snow. She's a homeschool mom with 7, dying of brain cancer. It breaks my heart, and does put so much into perspective. Talk about stress when your whole life is wrapped up in survival and hospitals and pain and wanting so badly to raise your own children but know you will be leaving them. How can I even complain or be stressed by my puny problems? Ok, my turn to update, though I'm not as good a writer as you ;)
