Wrapping up Christmas

Christmas with family was blessed, fun, peaceful, heartwarming and humbling. 

I had dreaded the logistics of working into the evening on Christmas Eve, going to an 11 p.m. worship service then getting up fairly early Christmas Day to head to McKinney for an overnight visit  with my husband's family. After the Friday return to Norman was a Saturday trip to Stillwater, and, likely, a swing by Greenwood, Ark., before returning home again to Norman on Sunday. (I really didn't even give much thought to what looked like a small chance of snow.)

If it were up to me to make all that take place smoothly, I'm pretty sure it would not happen. But by the grace of God and with amazing support from my husband, the moments unfolded calmly and gracefully. 

Gifts of presence included talking and listening; patience; smiles and laughter; and advice only when asked. 

My new iPhone with a better camera and extra memory let me take pictures with abandon -- and many of them captured fun moments with siblings, in-laws, nieces, nephews and "grands." 

Gift-giving and receiving often stress me out, and the preparation certainly did this year as well. But the new and appreciated conclusion this year was satisfaction with gifts given, instead of the usual

second-guessing. 

Meanwhile, I was humbled to receive way too much. All I could do was say thank you. (I also made a mental pledge to start getting rid of some of my accumulated possessions, and I have made early efforts toward that.)

One of my gifts was the trip to Greenwood. It was as if God put it on my heart to carry some of the Stillwater festivities to those unable to attend. 

A thought that comes to mind is that a person cannot outgive a God. I was trying to be less selfish, but it seems even my smallest efforts toward others returned blessings to me. That was not my intent. But how can I not be grateful?

Throughout the Christmas festivities, starting with the choir cantata on Dec. 14 and continuing with the Christmas Eve worship service and several of my daily devotionals, a prominent Scripture was John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life."  It's not a traditional Scripture associated with Christmas, but it really gets to the heart of the reason for the season. 

How does one respond to such a gift? Share it. But how? I continue to pray to know how and to do it. 

Christmas in transition

I'm back in Norman after a very nice Christmas weekend with family in Texas. Thanks to all who joined along in singing (and playing) songs of the season! And oh the food and smiles and hugs and love. Sweet music of life -- to hear it, to share it and to praise God for it. It was our first Christmas without Daddy physically among us on Earth. There still weren't any public tears that I was aware of, and not much discussion of our thoughts since Daddy's passing. To me, it seems people would rather not talk about it. I was aware we didn't do a family picture. No one mentioned it that I heard. I thought of it but didn't want to be the one to bring it up. I do have a sense that late August was our Christmas, and we took lots of pictures then. As I prepared for the weekend, one of the things I tried to recall was what our mindset as a family was last year. It was after Daddy's lung surgery. As far as we knew, the surgery was a success and he was cancer-free. I think the sense was overwhelming gratitude that he had come through everything so well and that we were together for another Christmas as a family. All of the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren were there. I don't recall any thoughts that it might be our last Christmas together, other than just as part of our fresher reality that we won't all be here forever. And then when the 3-6 months prognosis after an inoperable liver cancer diagnosis came in last August, it still seemed hard to fathom Daddy wouldn't be here this Christmas. That was still the case for me the first week of October. But by the last week of October, it was clear that God's, and Daddy's, gift to the family would be for Daddy's suffering to end and our new reality to begin. And for me, some of what Christmas is all about was stronger in my heart, knowing that God's gift of His son is why we don't have to fear death -- our own or those of our loved ones who put their faith in Him. Daddy was certainly in good company for his first Christmas in heaven. Anyway, I'm still trying to find my way on when and where it is appropriate to really talk much about Daddy and honor his memory. Among ways today: Memorial donations and words on a blog. Meanwhile, life goes on. I was grateful to attend the Christmas Eve communion and candlelight service at Whaley in Gainesville with Gene, Mom and Amy. Then Gene and I went to McKinney to spend the night and Christmas Day with Gene's sister, Mae, and her son, Michael, joined later by his significant other, her son and their hyper chihuahuas. And somehow there was still time for a Christmas night visit to see Mom and those staying at her house. And of course Monday with Mom and my siblings and their families and extended family and friends is always time to treasure that ends too soon. Grateful for memories -- and pictures! I caroled every chance I got, including on Facebook. I enjoyed that we did sing Christmas songs -- spiritual and seasonal -- before opening presents Monday. I don't know what I expected for this Christmas. I know it turned out good. God's presence seems more real to me than ever. I pray to live in a way that I never lose that. Happy birthday, Jesus. Thank you, God. I pray to reflect Your love and live to Your glory.

I guess it's time -- smiling through tears

Well, the tears are becoming more frequent. They are mostly while I am alone, praying, writing or just thinking. Today's were prompted by a bit of frustration with Christmas preparation, realizing another thing I'd forgotten to take care of, combined with a warm memory about my Dad and a nativity scene I'm pretty sure he wanted me to have. And they are truly still tears of joy and gratitude -- but of course also sadness and loss.

Sadly as for what it says about my vanity, one of the most frustrating things about tears and weeping is that even if I do it privately, the effects of a puffy face and itchy, tired eyes are very public.

So, if you notice my swollen face and eyes or see me crying, understand that I truly do feel joyous and blessed. Those feelings warm me so deeply inside.

As I've expressed many times, smiling through tears produces beautiful prisms, like sunshine or light blazing through water or rain. They are beautiful. They represent beautiful memories and blessings and gifts from God.

And, of course, God's greatest gift is His Son, Whose birth we celebrate at Christmas. That's why I know that even if I cry or my face is puffy or I have a moment of self-pity, God is with me/us. Emmanuel. Joy, joy, JOY TO THE WORLD! The Lord is come!

A gift from the Father to a daughter of the Psalmist's son

Faith. Hope. Love. And the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13)

Faith is very, very important, though. In recent days, I have been increasingly grateful that God and Daddy (Charles Davidson, whose surname makes me think of him as the Psalmist's son, and me as a daughter of the Psalmist's son) gave me a gift of greater faith.

Pray. Believe. Have faith. Trust. Obey.

I am having to rely heavily on faith as I face Christmas. I fear I will cry at any time. I often feel I am on the verge of tears. A few come, such as when I called to talk to Mom this morning. But not many have flowed. (Yet.) I am reminded I can have faith that's OK if and when the tears flow. And what if I don't cry? That's OK, too.

Monday I was starting to feel resentful about how some things are going at work and in relationships, especially with regard to Christmas expectations. I finally had to step back and just pray some more. God gently reminded me that I still am very much in the process of grieving. Holidays have been a complex mix of eager spiritual anticipation and earthly stress for me for many years, and of course they are more so this year, so soon after Daddy's Oct. 30 death. God was able to help me trust again that He is in charge, guiding me and loving me and strengthening me and comforting me.

Part of this is related to thoughts I've been journaling about for awhile: Yes, but ... What if?

How many times will God have to show me before I really believe? First came Daddy's summer 2010 diagnosis, fall 2010 surgery, new diagnosis in August 2011 and eventual amazingly sudden and smooth passing; and seeing so many ways in which God sustained Daddy and Mom and the family. In the weeks since Daddy's death, Mom has had some health issues, and again we see over and over how God has taken care of her and continues to do so.

But as Mom has had her health scares and things keep working out smoothly, my thoughts have touched at least briefly on situations where that isn't the obvious result. What about the death of 5-month-old nephew Ryan all those years ago, uncle Joe's desperation, Josh's dad, 9/11 and other unexplainables .... people who died too soon, unexpectedly and/or alone.

For today, the message God seems to be giving me is that it's not what happens but how we react that matters most. Daddy reacted in simple faith. Mom reacts in simple and strong faith. I am grateful to be surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1), on earth and in Heaven -- people who have chosen faith in God. And I can choose faith, too. What a gift!

Shout the Good News! (formerly: Priorities, procrastination. FOCUS!!!! on what?)

It's blog deadline, but I don't really have a topic or time. I need/want to be practicing the Christmas cantata. So, maybe I'll combine the two. Ah! Song 1, "Shout the Good News!" Now I'm revved up!

This year's cantata, "Shout the Good News!" has seven songs, no solos. The arrangements are beautiful and include some variations on carols, but as usual, I can tell I'll be much more comfortable if I take time in addition to choir rehearsal to make sure I know my part. As of last Wednesday, I was not able to sing with much confidence, often stumbling over words or notes. I can tell this run-through has helped. Maybe this week I'll be ready! And by the time we sing it for worship on Dec. 18, it will be pure joy!

I'm also working on "Gesu Bambino" for early service this Sunday. I know this by heart, but I still take time to practice in hopes that the sound that comes forth will be the best I can do for God. Singing a Christmas solo is a highlight of the season for me, and this is one of my favorites. When Christmas falls on Sunday, there's one less Sunday for a traditional hymn- and special music-filled worship service. I'm glad to have the opportunity to sing at early service. It's been a while since I've been able to schedule it.

As far as the blog headline, I put those original words (Priorities, procrastination, FOCUS!!! on what?) up there as I was trying to think of something to write. I am so aware of not being focused, and that sure makes it easy to procrastinate. For those few moments just now, it was very worthwhile to focus on the message of Christmas through the songs of the cantata. Beyond that, I'm still struggling.

Since Thanksgiving, I've found myself finding excuses not to do more than I've actually said yes to. Why didn't I go to the Hanging of the Greens service? How many parties have I missed? That's a recipe for regret that I hope not to have to taste. I continue to pray to know and do God's will. Help me not find an excuse to skip caroling or other opportunities to be involved in moments of the season that combine joy, fellowship and outreach to those in need of even something as simple as a visit. Even as I pray, right this minute, I don't feel confident I'll make what seems to me to be the best choice. Somehow, I think I have to be OK with that, too. I know the alternative -- beating myself up for the way I am -- isn't very productive.

Maybe it's OK for me to "Shout the Good News!" of God's great gift of salvation through His son Jesus, even as I am so aware of my unworthiness to receive that gift. Because, as I understand it, on my own, yes, I am unworthy. But the very gift makes me worthy if only I will receive it. And so I will receive it and I will share it -- and I will trust God to shape my life to His glory.

Christmas in January

It's the second weekend of January, and I'm still celebrating Christmas. I guess that's what happens when you try to find the silver lining in whatever life brings.

Yesterday I watched the DVD of the Texas Rangers landmark season as the American League champions. It was a Christmas present that had to be shipped late. It was fun to watch and to appreciate my nephew for getting it for me. Today, another shipment of presents came, including a fascinating coffee-table book with writings and photographs of art masterpieces inspired by the Bible. And then there's my iPhone, which I guess I effectively traded in the camera to get! (I was going to get the iPhone anyway, but now that I have it, the camera can wait, or so it seems.)

Tomorrow, I'm singing a Christmas song at church. I debated all week whether it would be OK to do so late, and I've decided, with some encouragement from family and friends, that it is OK. I didn't have a chance to sing special music during December. And the message of what happens at Christmas isn't just for Christmas. As I've practiced, I've enjoyed being reminded that "love came down ... chains (are) broken ... songs of hope (ring) through the skies ... A Father calls through a gift of life ...."

Continued celebrations of Christmas seem fitting in a week of days in which I've tried to find blessed gifts in new and sometimes trying circumstances.

My body and mind and home life still aren't crazy about my new work schedule, but they're all glad I have a job and that, so far, I've been able to keep a good attitude and get started on developing a good routine. Right now, though, it also seems like work when I'm home, because I have to keep a pretty tight schedule if I want to get anything done at all. I still have no sense of passage of time between when I get up and when I go to work. I'm more accustomed to work (or church) being the first order of business each day. It's strange to have time to do so many other things first ... and tempting to not be ready when all of a sudden it's time to actually go to work. Meanwhile, my husband and I have made the most of maximizing some of our time together. That's been good. I think we both realize we had taken for granted the great schedules and work flexibility we'd had these past 28 or so years.

Being scheduled to allow me to attend choir practice on Wednesdays is every bit the gift I thought it would be. Choir members were glad to see me, and I was more appreciative to be there than perhaps I had been before. Again, it's amazing how easy it is to take things for granted. It's also interesting to me that, as important as The Seeking Hour at 7 a.m. Wednesdays had seemed to me, I'm not really upset to give that up. I do hope to continue to include aspects of that prayer discipline in my week if not my daily routine.

Friday, I visited a friend in the hospital. I'm not sure I would have done that with the old work schedule. I think my visits with my dad during his recovery from lung surgery last fall also impressed upon me the importance of such visits. Even though my friend could not speak or clearly acknowledge he knew who I was, I felt much hope and continue to pray it's just a matter of time before a breakthrough leads to a strong surge of recovery.

Yesterday and today, the sun shone brightly. That's always a gift in January, even when potentially nasty weather more typical of the season is in the immediate forecast. I'm grateful for every sunny day -- and grateful for insulated outerwear, warm clothes, heaters, a car that runs, etc., on the days when the weather isn't so bright.

Today is a gift. Life is a gift. Gratitude is a gift. Love is a gift. Blessed by all of these and more each moment from God, how can I not feel the joy of Christmas all these days later? Thank You, God. And I'm reminded that the way to most fully experience these gifts is to share them. I pray to do so, to God's glory.

Like coal in my stocking

Well, the good news is I still have a job. The not-so-thrilling news is that starting Jan. 3, I'll be working until midnight most days. I learned this the week of Christmas, and it seemed kinda like getting a lump of coal rather than a desirable gift in my stocking.

I typically don't deal with change very well, and that's the case again. I try to keep planning and hoping for the best. I see opportunities to make a fresh start on sleep patterns, exercise, eating and use of my nonwork time. But then my stomach weighs in, and I know I'm very, very unsettled. More than my hours are changing, but I don't yet know what the other aspects will involve.

Several times I've convinced myself I see more positives than negatives -- helped largely by amazing support from my husband, who has expressed willingness to make adjustments, too. The fact that, at least for the first month, I'm scheduled so that I can take off in time to attend choir practice on Wednesdays is another plus. But I don't see me getting up at 6 a.m. Wednesdays for the Seeking Hour that has become such an important part of my weekly routine.

For now, the uncertainty is the worst part. Even as I hope and plan for the best, I'm also trying to be prepared for the worst. What if I don't adjust? What if I can't sleep? What if I start overeating again? What if I don't like the changes in what I actually do at work? What if ...? What if ...?

So far, for every negative "what if ...," I've been able to eventually shift my mind -- at least temporarily -- to a positive thought. (I still haven't convinced my stomach.) Scripture reminds me it's a waste of time to worry about tomorrow. I cling to that and the message of Christmas, that God is with me. I also can't shake the thought that even a lump of coal can be put to productive use.

I hope that by dispatching this bit of possibly negative reality, I'll be able to sit down tomorrow or Friday and write a more upbeat assessment of the year that's ending and what may await in the coming year.

It's Christmas Eve, and I must share ....

It's Christmas Eve, and I'm finally finished buying and wrapping Christmas presents. (This is funny, because I started writing this before midnight the day before Christmas Eve, and the finishing hasn't actually happened. But by time I post this, it will!

This has been a difficult December in many ways, and I've sometimes found myself just wanting it to be over. But even as I've gone through some of those difficult days, I've been able to quickly see blessings and learn lessons. Even when circumstances have changed in ways I didn't like, I've been able to rebound fairly quickly and regain a positive outlook.

And now it's Christmas Eve (really; I'm back the the computer, finishing what I started). The presents are bought and wrapped. It's about time to start spending time with family and loved ones. A Christmas Eve candlelight service is in the plan, as well as prayer and reflection; meditation and gratitude; maybe some opportunities to serve and offer hope, laughter, encouragement, compassion, love, maybe a song or two and other gifts from the heart.

Partly because of the difficulty of this December, I feel more aware than ever of the true meaning of God's gift at Christmas: the presence of the indwelling Christ, God with us, the Child Who was born to bring us hope and save us from our sins. I need that, and I need to share that. At Christmas and always.

The words from another song on Point of Grace's "Home for the Holidays" CD captures some of what's in my heart this Christmas Eve:

Do you hear what I hear
On this Christmas Day
Word of God now bundled in a manger lined with hay.
Baby with a message, born to grow

Hear the sound of chains now broken
Love came down -- God has spoken.
Songs of hope ringing through the sky
On this not so silent night .....

Oh to be an angel on a midnight clear
Joining in a chorus of unending joy
Tell it on the mountain -- Heaven has drawn near
Hand of God with fingers of a baby boy ...

Hear the bells resound with glory
Hear them tell the age-old story
Songs of hope ringing through the sky
On this not so silent night .....

You can hear this (which really comes alive with the music and harmonies) and the other songs (including the delightfully joyous "Joy to the World") on their website, pointofgrace.net.

May the songs and joy and love and all that God offers be yours at Christmas and always!

Christ is born! Hallelujah! Joy the world! The Lord is here!

Great gifts of the season

I'm glad I listened past the almost too country and too cute Christmasy songs at the start of Point of Grace's new Christmas CD, "Home for the Holidays," to get to some with messages and/or arrangements that gave my spirit a lift.

One of my favorites, both for the words and the way they are delivered, is "Immanuel." I couldn't find a transcript of the lyrics, but this is the first verse and chorus:

No decorations, no tree with tinsel, no lights this year at home
The rooms are silent, no carols play.
It's the first time she is all alone.
But what a wonder; she says there's comfort ...
Immanuel: Our God is with us.
Yes, He is with us still.
Immanuel. He has not left us, and He never will.

It's about people facing the festive season with emptiness, loss and heartache; the broken and lost. It seems I'm aware of more people than ever in those kinds of situations. Some, as in the first verse, remind themselves, and others need to be reminded that even in those circumstances, God is with them. And His people, including me, can help be that reminder.

Is it that simple? Does understanding and remembering that God is with us, whatever comes our way, really make a difference? Does sharing that message with someone else by taking time to call, visit or help, really make a difference? Well, it did today. It did last Sunday. In fact, it has daily. Just thinking of the reality that God is with me really does make a difference.

Joy to the world. The Lord has come. And He is still here!

What a gift! And, as the final song on that CD reminds me, what a Gift-giver. For indeed, God is the Giver and the Gift. Not only on one holy night, but always. May I always be grateful. May I rejoice and sing. And may I share that gift!

Christmas in October

I planned my Saturday through Monday visit to Mom and Dad on the farm based on their decision that Daddy would not have surgery to remove a cancerous spot on his lung. I knew I would miss the final scheduled meeting with a surgeon, but I supported their decision and just wanted to spend time with them to add presence to that support. I was surprised when, after I had made those plans, I learned that in the meeting with the surgeon, the decision was made to go ahead and have surgery. It was scheduled for the Monday I planned to visit. So I made arrangements at work to stay in Texas at least through Wednesday. Before I left work, the surgery had been rescheduled for Tuesday, but that still fit with my plans.

I still cannot even organize my thoughts and words about how blessed this past week has been.
Among the highlights:
-- Going with my parents to their church (the church I went to as I was growing up and that I still consider home) on Sunday and feeling the outpouring of love and care for my Dad and Mom.
-- Washing dishes. (You'd have to ask my Daddy the significance of that.)
-- Spending Monday visiting with my parents, his surviving sister, the widower of his oldest sister and his niece (my cousin), and then more of my family as they arrived. That's when I realized it seemed like Christmas in October.
-- The surreal experience of telephone calls on Monday from the surgeon's office and then the surgeon that informed Daddy that his surgery had been postponed a few hours, but that a less-invasive procedure was possible. Talk about good news/confusing news. The less-invasive procedure to accomplish the original goal was certainly desirable, but why hadn't they planned this earlier? Somehow, I decided in those moments, apparently following the lead of my parents, to just to continue to have faith in Mom and Dad, the medical experts -- and, ultimately, God, who I became more and more certain had to be in control of all this.
-- Even Tuesday at the hospital was amazingly upbeat. I don't know about anyone else, but I was terrified, and even though I tried not to dwell on it in my speech or thoughts, I was prepared to say good-bye to my Daddy. After all, he is 84, has trouble breathing and is slow to get around. I've seen medical situations, that were supposed to help a situation, go awry, and the person is never the same. And it seemed like with an older person such as my dad, even "routine" surgical procedures could carry greater risks of complications that might include infections, pneumonia, breathing difficulties, heart strain, blood clots .... In the weeks since the cancerous spot was found, Daddy had shown renewed zest for life, which made it even harder to let him go into what seemed to be risky surgery. But I also I knew that I and many other people were praying and had faith in God in this and all matters. And the thoughts also occurred to me of so many people who don't find out they have cancer until it's too late to do much about it. Based on the tests and medical analysis, all Daddy needed was surgery to remove the spot and some surrounding lung. And based on all the tests and the medical analysis, Daddy was a good candidate for the procedure.

The whole family -- Mom and the six kids -- were at the hospital when they took Daddy in about 12:15 p.m., and we were all there when the reports of a successful surgery began coming: 3:30 -- surgery done, closing him up; 4 p.m. -- Doctor says he's wide awake but probably won't remember anything, and when he's off the respirator, we'll be able to see him. By 5:30, the first two were able to go in. By 6, I got to see my Daddy, and shortly thereafter, all of the kids had visited.

And I was truly amazed. He was as strong and alert and had as much color as when he went in -- and all of those were very good when he went in. I really don't think I thought that was possible. Yes, there' is pain. Yes, there is risk. But there is a great spirit and will that inspire and delight and make me proud.

As I wrote to a colleague who inquired about my Dad (a colleague whose Mom recently died of complications from inoperable lung cancer, if I recall correctly), I cannot believe how well he did. To me, it is a miracle. He seemed as strong and alert and had as much color after surgery as he did when he went in. They ended up doing it laparoscopically but were able to get the same amount of lung and nodes as they would have with the seven-inch incision. The doctors and nurses all seemed amazed at how well he did and was continuing to do in recovery, with his deep breathing, coughing or whatever they tried to get him to do. By the second day, he was starting to feel more discomfort, as they reduced the amount of morphine he could take for pain, but he seemed to be adjusting to that OK, too. All of the family -- including Mom and Dad -- know that we are very, very fortunate. I do give the praise to God. I know many, many people were praying. And I know that sometimes even when that many people are praying, things don't turn out the way we want them to. But I truly think we did everything we could to be prepared for the best OR the worst -- and we're just so grateful the result was the best.

In many ways, this week has been better than Christmas, at least better than Christmas as it often gets observed. This week's (and the past few weeks') experiences have been about faith and family and relearning to focus on what's important. One of the things I want to take away from this week's experiences is that every day of life contains many gifts, including the life and love of our family members, friends and even people we don't know. And the greatest gift of all: A loving God, Savior and Spirit Who is with us through it all, if we will just call upon Him and receive His love.

Grateful and blessed

Wow! That week went nothing like planned. For the first time in years, I actually finished my Christmas shopping, getting something for everyone on my list (except one person) by 10:15 p.m. Dec. 23. (And I stumbled across the perfect gift for that person while dining together Christmas Eve and was able to make the purchase!)

As I was finishing up my shopping and growing in my sense of accomplishment, I was also growing anxious about the weather and whether these gifts would make it to their recipients. Was it possible I would have the gifts to give, but miss the best gift of all, which is seeing my family to whom I wanted to give gifts? Yes, it was highly possible, as it turned out.

I don't know how to adequately thank my boss and the people I work most closely with for making it possible for me not to have to try to drive 25 miles north from Norman to north Oklahoma City by myself in my Mustang in the sleet on Christmas Eve morning. I know it was a very busy day and difficult for all of them, workwise and travelwise. But I am convinced that, had I tried it, I would have been one of the many people stuck along the way who had to be rescued, either on the way to work (that's what I think) or on the way home. And if Gene and I would have waited any longer to head south to Texas, I don't think we would have made it. Even leaving at 12:30 p.m., those first 15 miles were treacherous enough that if I had been by myself, I would have tried to turn back. (And I probably would have ended up getting stuck in the process.)

As it turned out, we were finally able to make it to McKinney Thursday evening to spend Christmas Eve and much of Christmas Day with Gene's sister and her son. And then we were able to head to Mom and Dad's house west of Gainesville while my brother and his family from Arkansas were still there. Then we stayed with another sister west of Muenster, where more of the family arrived to celebrate on Saturday. I ended up getting to see everyone except one sister (who lives near the homeplace but had to work), a niece, a newlywed nephew and his wife, a newlywed niece and her husband and the fiancee of another nephew.

And although I didn't get to go to Christmas Eve worship, and I chose one more meal with family members over going to worship this morning, I went to Sunday school with Mom, and it's such a great class and lesson that I felt like I'd been to church.

Now we're back home in Norman. Our kitty was glad to see us; she was safe and sound. Gene shoveled the driveway and we ventured out again to Walmart, which surprisingly had not done a very good job of clearing its parking lot. I guess they saw no need to do better, since people were flocking in anyway!

There's so much more I could write, but I have things to do (including pet my kitty some more) before I head to work tomorrow. But I wanted to write this bit while it's fresh in my mind. I'm pretty sure I'll add to it and maybe even post some pictures.

I will add right now that even though, without the Christmas Eve service, some of the "reason for the season" focus of Christmas wasn't felt as clearly, I probably prayed more than I ever have during that drive from Norman to McKinney. And I'm really glad Mom went to Sunday school this morning and I could go, too. I just see more evidence every day that God wants me to put Him first -- to seek to know and do His will and NEVER to forget or ignore Him. It doesn't mean I have to spend all my time at church or reading the Bible or praying or forcing people to sing carols and read the Christmas story from the Bible when we're together. But it does mean that the time I spend in those ways will be rewarded and blessed, and that it will equip me to know how to live the rest of the moments to their fullest.

For all these reasons and so many more, I am grateful and blessed!

Target practice

This is one of those nights I needed to just sit down and write. I got home early, because the latest haircut appointment I could get was 5:30. Taking off early today offset some of last week's long days. I was glad to be able to do it, even though I'd forgotten how bad traffic is between north Oklahoma City and Norman at 5 p.m. on a weekday. I was 10 minutes late, but it didn't seem to be a problem. I'm grateful for that.

I stopped at Target afterward, trying to decide what to take for my department's Christmas lunch tomorrow. I'd decided to make my own variation of festive Christmas Tree Appetizers (the recipe will be in the newspaper tomorrow, but I know it already, because I edited it!). But I talked myself out of it. And that brings me to why I'm writing tonight.

I'm trying to peel back some of the layers of whatever it is I get hung up in or covered up by each December. I don't expect to get it all sorted through this year. I have no expectations regarding results.

At times in my life, I've called this exercise verbal vomit. But that was when the confusion in my head seemed hopeless, sick and nothing but negative. That's not the case now. I still don't understand why I think and act the way I do -- and why I can't just change those many, many things I don't like about how I think and act -- but most of the time I don't feel hopeless or depressed about these things now. I'm able to say a prayer, count some blessings and find a positive step. (It may sound trite or cliche, but simply saying a prayer and finding something to be grateful for has changed every situation I've ever allowed it to touch.)

Anyway, what I faced tonight at Target was something I seem to have done all of my adult life. It's Christmastime, and I'm shopping -- and I have no idea what to buy. I can't decide what to buy for presents, for food to take to parties, for decorations. Sometimes I think I've decided (see the Christmas Tree Appetizers, above), and then I talk myself out of it. My arguments against are always sound and typically are born of experience. In the food situation, I know if I take food, I will want to eat food. And if I start eating party food at work, I'll eat too much and feel miserable. (That's not even considering that I'd probably start eating too much while I was preparing the food.) Most people may be able to eat too much and not feel miserable or at least not let it ruin their day, but I'm not those people. So I bought a bag of healthy chips and will just take that. I'm going to try to socialize without eating the goodies. I don't know if I can. But today I declined one of my most favorite snacks -- Chex mix made just right (just the right amount of extra butter, nuts and seasoning) -- and don't feel deprived. So I know it's possible.

That's all I'm going to write about tonight. Maybe I'll explore more of these later, such as why it's so hard to even figure out which GIFT CARDS to buy family members.

I wish I could think of a better ending. Oh well. Time to go wash clothes, pedal or something. Gratefully and smiling.