As I listen to the hymns of Christmas, I cannot help but seek to attain the childlike innocence of simply looking at the lights and bulbs in the tree.
I breaths. In and out, simply looking at the lights.
As a child, I would frequently hone in on just one section that was perfect, with balls echoing the glow of pine needles, intersperced with bright and faded lights, some clear and some ever so blurry in their perfection.
I remember many early and wonderful holiday seasons that occurred well before the hardships of life that tried to soften their impact.
Little did I know that impending Christmases were set to be sad and without a tree, presents, or my mom. They started out just after my parent’s divorce, leaving me with sleepless nights wondering where they went wrong.
My mind thought that since I was made from both of them, if they separated then it would cut me in half. I was young, barely twelve, but I felt much older. I think their divorce aged me a lot, but it all worked out okay because it prepared me for my subsequent divorces, two of them.
Like Snow White or Cinderella, I never thought I would do anything but get married and live happily ever after. I would have kids, change diapers, and kiss my husband off to work.
I’m not even sure why I’m telling you these things, but I suppose we know one another well enough by now.
Things didn’t work out for me the way I planned. But that is okay because no matter what, everything has prepared me for what is ahead.
What is Ahead?
Sure, there is bound to be some sugar and spice and everything nice. Laughter and love, hills and valleys with sunsets and sunflowers bobbing their heads and chattering in glee as they laugh at the stormy mountains in the distance.
I know that we are all in a spiritual war, and I contemplate this as an effervescent awakening that taps me on the shoulder in the early mornings or leaves me lying awake at night.
It isn’t so much that I pray to get out of my future (at all), but I do pray for what lies ahead.
Whereas at other times in my life, I had no idea when everything was going to change in the blink of an eye, today I know that everything will change. It will change in the blink of a week or two.
Next week, I assume a clinic. I’m holding it as a surprise so it may unfold before us.
After that, I know there will be more changes, gigantic ones.
I also know that God gave me wings. He allowed me to survive all the millions of odds that wanted me dead. And I know that in these last four years and with God’s help, I made a difference in thousands of lives.
I have a lot of hope for the future. This hope keeps me with my eyes wide open, because I have a future that will forge new ground for me.
And for others that count on me.
Please keep me in your prayers, thank you.
More to follow.
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