It’s 7:31a.m. and two of my three kids are gone off to school. My husband is on his way to work. My ten year old baby is still snuggled in his bed, and the pup has already had a little snooze on the front path, then left his trail of muddy pawprints across the foyer right over to his dog dish. I’m drinking my coffee while I check emails in front of the Christmas tree.
It’s just a regular day, and I’m feeling so blessed to have it.
Today more than ever, I want my kids to have the nativity set, the sparkling tree, the bell-shaped cookies. I want to find the time to decorate gingerbread houses. I want them to walk in the door from school and feel it – Christmastime in our home – a memory they will take with them into their old age, God willing. Good, fun, warm memories of a childhood in which they felt loved, special, and part of something is what I want for them, what I hope will sustain them when hard times come.
Even when heartache abounds, even when grief and devastation exist, our small efforts to make Christmas cheerful for those we love and strangers alike matter. They do.
I’m not looking for perfection, Normal Rockwell painting meets Leave It To Beaver show. On a daily basis, my kids argue, I lose my temper, my husband is tired, there are seven damp towels on my daughter’s floor, I’m annoyed at my extended family, and the dog is stinky. Real life is messy. But I’m still grateful for each day of it.
Let us make the most of these regular days that we have. Let us pack some good living into our days in honor of those whose life on this earth came to an end too soon. Let us spread some Christmas cheer, love, kindness and fun, for who knows what tomorrow will bring.
Today….there will be gingerbread house making!!!