It's that time of year again--my most favorite day of the year. I love Christmas. Well, I guess what I really love is the anticipation. Christmas Day is always a little melancholy for me--the season is over and the spirit that exists so abundantly between Thanksgiving and Christmas becomes something that I have to search for the remaining 11 months of the year.
It has been a wonderful but hard year in many ways. I am ever grateful for the peace of the gospel. It is the only true solace in a world fraught with trials and heartache. What a blessing to end our year with the celebration of a baby boy, born to be the Savior of all mankind.
Our family continues to grow and change. It is exciting to have all of our children eagerly anticipating Santa this year. With Andrew being 7, I'm very aware that this may be the only year all of our children are old enough to understand, and young enough to believe. (One could hope he'll be slow to catch on and I can eek out another year or two!) When they are finally old enough to know, I think I may have to borrow someone else's young children. I love playing Santa--and I love the magic in their eyes when they truly believe.
So, I'm off to put the Wassail on to simmer for the night, prep the cinnamon rolls for Christmas breakfast, and fill the stockings with care.
May you be blessed with an abundance of the Christmas spirit and the love of our Savior Jesus Christ.
From our family to Yours-- "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
In case you didn't already know, I'm Mormon. And Mormons go to church a LOT. And we go to church even if the sun isn't shining, and even on weeks when it's not Christmas or Easter, and even when we should be home sick in bed. And Mormons have a lot of kids---A LOT of kids. And these kids come to church every week too--rain or shine, happy or sad, snotty or clean. At our house, this leads to a little phenomenon we call "Tuesday Morning."
You see when a bunch of kids spend two hours in close proximity with one another, and all aren't necessarily well, and they aren't keeping their hands and snot to themselves, it ineveitably leads to this phenomenon in which one such mother finds her children always turn up sick on Tuesday morning. (well 98% of the time anyway.) So this week is no different. Ava has a slight fever this morning, and when I showed Colonel Mustard she did, he replied, "Well it is Tuesday morning isn't it?"
So it is--and I guess we haven't had a "Tuesday morning" in a long time. And I won't be too upset cause her fever has already subsided, so I'm pretty assured that it's no big deal. But...if you're a Mormon mother, try my experiement. Write down on your calendar the day your kid turns up sick and see if you too don't suffer from "Tuesday Morning."
My beloved brother Kirk was blessed tonight to leave this mortal existence and pass into the arms of so many waiting on the other side.
I am grateful that his suffering is finally over. I am grateful to know that others are rejoicing this moment, as we, left in this mortal existence, grieve our temporary loss. I am so grateful to know that I will see him again someday. I am strangely grateful for this experience and how it has strengthened my testimony to know that indeed God's purposes are so much greater and wiser than my own.
I pray for his children. I was just 16 when I lost my father, so my heart is full of those same feelings of emptiness for their young tender hearts. I pray that they too will see wisdom in the Lord's ways and that this experience will strengthen them in ways that no other experience could.
My thanks to all who have prayed for our family. We are ever grateful for your faith.
Thank you Kirk for your example, your witty sense of humor, your testimony, your cute girlfriends in middle school you named me after, and most of all, just for being my brother.