I've been going through the motions, just hoping for survival at the end.
Earlier in the week I decided it was time to start getting our Christmas trees up. Through past experience, I know better than to decorate the house before Jackson's party. If you recall the party from two years ago, the party goers flipped over my sofa during their banshee-style siege on my house.
As I started to decorate the tree in our formal living room I came upon an ornament that said, "celebrate" and another that said, "peace & joy." And I burst into tears. (I think the Christmas music in the background had something to do with it, too. It was "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.") It was a sweet and tender reminder that I'm not doing all of this for my children or myself. I'm doing it to celebrate the birth and life of my Savior. And suddenly, everything seemed much more important and took on a new perspective. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
And I realized that Mrs. Scrooge was gone and Lera was back.
And while I was busying myself in the red room, two little helper elves were decorating our little white tree in the upstairs hall.
Complete with a snowy village. These vintage houses belonged to Mom-Mom. Sawyer was so happy when he saw a temple (really a church with a steeple that he called a temple). We used some scrap white fleece and tulle to make it snowy and magical.
And then I remembered I had a few vintage ornaments from Mom-Mom that needed to go on the tree. Many decades ago my grandparents loved to bowl. I guess someone gave them this ornament for Christmas one year.
I am grateful for the tender mercy given to me to that reminds me of the true meaning of this Christmas season. It is such an important thing and I lost sight of it. But in the end, I found it. Or maybe it found me.