I’m trying. I’m really trying to find joy this Christmas. I suppose it’s like every other aspect of this process. One minute it’s there and seems effortless and the next it feels impossible to dig myself out of the hole my hope is buried in. Saturday was filled with it. Today is not.
Earlier this week a friend shared a haunting poem written in response to the horrific tragedy that ripped through an elementary school. My heart hurts for the families so newly dropped into grief this Christmas. How must they feel today? As I read the words of this poem I couldn’t stop thinking of my own angels. I don’t mean to disrespect or remove the message of hope and love for the sweet angels it was written for but I can’t stop contemplating the moments that my babies found His arms and what they thought/think about those left behind. I suppose I’d never really fully thought about that. I wonder what their first Christmas will be like and who they are with.
I think about my aunt who passed away this time last year. She held on through Christmas day and then flew into His arms. Are they with her? I like to think so. My what treats she must be baking for them. I can’t fill their tummies with treats this year but what wonderful things they must have with the bakers that have gone before! Between my grandmas, great aunt, and aunt Linda I can be sure they’ll have their share of milk and cookies.
My heart is broken and hurting and trying – trying desperately to find joy. I know the reason for the season and am thankful to have His birth to focus on, but I miss them.
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I’m hoping it’s ok to also use the photo that came along with this.
I don’t know who to credit for it’s use.
Written by Cameo Smith, Mt. Wolf, PA
Twas’ 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38
When 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven’s gate.
Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
They were filled with such joy, they didn’t know what to say.
They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
“Where are we?” asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
“This is heaven.” declared a small boy. “We’re spending Christmas at
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
Then He opened His arms and He called them by name.
And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring
Those children all flew into the arms of their King
And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
One small girl turned and looked at Jesus’ face.
And as if He could read all the questions she had
He gently whispered to her, “I’ll take care of mom and dad.”
Then He looked down on earth, the world far below
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe
Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
“Let My power and presence re-enter this land!”
“May this country be delivered from the hands of fools”
“I’m taking back my nation. I’m taking back my schools!”
Then He and the children stood up without a sound.
“Come now my children, let me show you around.”
Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.
All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
And i heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
“In the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT.”