A Miracle Shining Beautifully True

 

"How many months until Christmas?" my seven-year-old son asked. 

"Hmm, let me think. September, October, November, December...around four-and-a-half months." I replied while wondering where this conversation was going.

"Four-and-a-half? I thought yesterday it was three months!!!" his frustrated exclamation loudly burst forth into the quiet morning.

Issuing an attempt at calm, I used the most natural, yet soothing, tone I could find, "I don't remember talking about how many months it is until Christmas with you yesterday. Maybe it was one of your sisters?" 

With obvious disappointment over the extra month, his "Maybe," was spoken in a half-hearted attempt at a more pleasant tone of voice before he flew out of the room to find someone who would commiserate with him about the extra month of waiting for Christmas.

"You know you're seven and not 49 when a month-and-a-half  more until Christmas arrives is a disaster instead of a blessing." I muttered to myself before going on about my day. 

This unexpected conversation has lingered longer than it lasted. I can't help but wonder why is one less month a disaster to my child and a relief to me? Why do I feel as if I need another month to prepare to celebrate the greatest gift ever given? Why can't I count down the months and days to Christmas with as much enthusiasm at 49 years of age as I did when 7? Is there something I am missing? Have I unknowingly let something slip away? Is there something I need to be looking for that I have forgotten? Thoughts of better organizing the time between now and then start flitting about. Ways to simplify and beautify without losing the wonder and fun begin to fly around.

Then, somewhere in between fun stocking filler ideas to look for and our favorite holiday foods, thoughts start getting real. From a deeper level than a casual question typically takes me, another possibility surfaces in my thoughts ... has the wonder been lost or has it been hidden in a jumble of emotional clutter? Have I lost something, or am I avoiding something? Uh-oh, I don't think I like where this is going. I try very hard NOT to go here. This doesn't feel the least bit safe. In spite of my hesitation, the thoughts gently persist. 

I hear God Holy Spirit's still, small voice asking, "Do you trust Me?"

With a sigh of surrender, I straighten my shoulders and truthfully answer that, "Yes, Lord, I do."

The inner conversation continues ...

Am I trying to avoid the holidays because once again, this does not appear to be the "next year" that I will weigh significantly less than the year before? Is the reason an extra month-and-half is a blessing to me because an extra month-and-a-half allows me a little extra time to put off facing the ever present bodily reality another holiday season brings? Yes, another year has come and gone and I am still as morbidly obese as I was last year at this time. Even though I have said for the last umpteen years that "next year" I might be able to wear some of those cute outfits I see online, I still cannot do so. I have done exactly what the "experts" say will boost my metabolism and jump start my weight loss and well, here I am, just the same as I was before. This is obviously not going to be the year I am finally "myself" again with a Christmas list full of cute clothes instead of practical, emotionally safe household items. I truly enjoy receiving the household items, they are a HUGE blessing to my every day life. I truly am grateful for every gift I receive; they even excite me. But the brutally honest me would absolutely LOVE having cute clothes, shoes, and accessories along with the household items, music, and books on that list.

Oh sure, over the last two years I lost eight pounds. I know, I know, I have to start somewhere. Eight pounds in two years is NOT the start I want. I don't want to lose weight, I want to be found and loosed from excess weight's bondage! And that extra month-and-a-half? Well, to someone avoiding an unpleasant reality, that extra time is a gift in and of itself. Because maybe, just maybe, this will be the year. This might be the year the miraculous actually occurs, and if ever there was a year that needed a smack-down of the miraculous it is this year. Right? 

Or, maybe it isn't the extra weight. Maybe it's the fact that right alongside the thoughts of wearing cute outfits "next year" have been the thoughts that "next year" will be the year I come up with a feasible plan for contributing to the family's finances in a significant way. "Next year" maybe I will be able to pay for Christmas with money I made instead of My Beloved working so hard day after day. Maybe we'll be able to relax and have fun getting everybody gifts instead of feeling bad we can't do more. Maybe next year we can do some majorly fun things for our kiddos. Maybe next year is the year everything won't be so hard. Maybe we can ALL go to the dentist, the eye doctor, get new clothes, update the vehicle and ranch equipment situation, get adequate ranch supplies, new furniture, update the ranch facilities, go a few places, pay the kids a better wage, and have Christmas presents too! Maybe the miraculous will hit our pocketbook too!

Even though this honest conversation is taking place internally, my outer self is starting to relax. My shoulders are less tense and my breathing is deeper. Nothing that I can see has changed. Absolutely nothing. I'm not magically skinny, nor have millions suddenly appeared in my bank account. Yet an air of expectation surfaces as I realize where my thoughts have gone. Miracles. Yes, it would take a miracle for me to possess the physical appearance I desire. It would also take a miracle for my bank account to contain the balance my desires require. These facts are so. However, I can't help but be distracted from their reality by the miracles my life already contains.

That sweet, full-of-life miracle that calls me Grandma will be here for part of her first Christmas on earth. All of our children, even those married in, celebrate the greatest Christmas gift of Jesus. All of our parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews also celebrate Jesus wherever they spend their holidays. All of us want to love each other well. We may not pull it off perfectly, but our hearts desire it. A miracle. A smile breaks the serious expression on my face. A  miracle. How perfect. Miracles and Christmas. Christmas IS a miracle. Skinny or fat, money or not, Christmas is a miracle, and a miracle is something to be excited about no matter what.

"For unto to us a child is born...and His name shall be called wonderful, counselor, prince of peace...He is Emmanuel, God with us...You will call the baby Jesus"

Excitedly counting the months and days to Christmas, the story of Jesus!