Wednesday, December 18, 2013
I know, for many reading this blog, Christmas this year just isn't the same. Thoughts of the baby that should be kicking in your belly or sleeping in your arms are at the forefront of your minds.
Last year, making a list of supposed things I "wanted" was a joke. I really wanted to scream at the vain idea of collecting more "things". How could I want more stuff that I didn't need? How could I make a wish list when the ONLY thing I wanted was for Hudson to be safely in my womb and my family to be living the dream I had hoped and prayed for.
If I couldn't have that, then what was I supposed to "want"?
I do remember it all so well.
Brady and I spent Christmas Eve night writing letters and weeping before bed. Reality had sunk in that our little boy in Heaven would never spend a Christmas morning on our living room floor. We would never hear his feet running down the hall in anticipation of new toys.
This reality coupled with the fact that Christmas has everything to do with the birth of a baby, well, leaves you in a whirlwind of emotion, doesn't it? This was the part of it all that I never anticipated to be so difficult.
Hearing the songs about Mary on that first Christmas night as she delivered the Savior of the World was a little different for me.
What did Christmas look like to Mary? I know it wasn't full of lights, presents, food and shopping. Maybe it wasn't as picture perfect for her as we try to make it for us. Can you imagine how she must have felt, looking in the face of Jesus for the first time? Surely she glorified God with excitement, and yet, surely her heart ached maybe just a little knowing this baby wasn't hers. She was chosen to carry Him, but she was also chosen to be the mother that would give her son away. That baby she loved was not meant for her to keep, but to give for a greater purpose than she could have fulfilled.
The purpose and the hope of this story is evident. There is a purpose and hope to yours too, dear momma. It's up to you to find it.
Don't completely lose heart during this season. Please though, feel free to have an imperfect Christmas. One where you cry, write letters, look at pictures and go through cards. Do what you need to remember your baby and honor their life. Don't feel obligated to pretend all is well just to keep your family and friends happy.
I pray that you'll find the purpose and the meaning and that it will provide a measure of peace during this time!