A Perfect Christmas?

One of my biggest problems is that I tend to think too much. I think too much about what other's feel, think, expect, want, need, etc. I guess in many ways, I try to take up the slack just in case God is too busy answering important prayers. Kinda funny in a way, but that's just how I'm wired. I have spent most of my life trying to create picture perfect memories for others - during the Christmas season especially. Egg nog, check (even though I cringe at the thought of it), pumpkin pie (usually although I will admit to the occasional forgetting on purpose), check, Christmas cards meticulously signed with a personal note to each along with the Christmas newsletter, check, shopping done and presents wrapped for everybody and their brother that may have crossed my mind at some point during the year, check, the tree trimmed and re-trimmed until it's picture-perfect, check, all the items needed for the Christmas feast bought and ready to go, check. You name it, I made sure it was done. Martha Stewart - but with not nearly the same budget.

It was nine days before Christmas last year when I found myself being wheeled into surgery for an open lung biopsy. It had been a hard year for us. In April, Oliver had lost his job with the company he had been with for almost 20 years. They announced that he had taken and "early retirement" when the truth was, they were cleaning house. We reeled. Fortunately Oliver got a job fairly quickly with a competitor and that's how we ended up in Tennessee. He came down right away in July and I was left behind with our dog, Igloo, to sell the townhouse in a spiraling market. Not ideal circumstances, but we felt hopeful that we were on an upward trend. We love TN and it was getting us that much closer to our family in the panhandle of Florida.

It wasn't easy. For months I made sure the house was staged and looked like a page out of Better Homes and Gardens. Every time we got a call that someone was to look at it, my Martha Stewart genes kicked in and I had the music playing ever so softly, the throws folded just right to look like they had been tossed there haphazardly, the soft smell of whatever candle flavor I felt moved to light, the whole nine yards. Nothing. We had a few people through and the feedback was always that we were one of two they were considering and each time they went wtih the other one. It was discouraging but still we kept on. We had become wise in past years about staying connected by cell phone and not landlines. We'd laugh, we'd cry, we'd believe for a brighter future despite concerns about my health and the myriad of testing that I went through from Sept. through Dec.

Then came Christmas. Wtih every bit of strength that I had, I dragged the Christmas decorations out and had the house looking spectacular for the season. I knew I was going to be in the hospital for up to a week so I had to make sure everything was done. I didn't even have the extra strength to go Christmas shopping, which that in and of itself was hard on my psyche. So it was gift cards for the kids and homemade goodies for when Oliver came home - mostly because we weren't sure if and when he'd be able to come home for us to celebrate Christmas. Igloo got to spend the week I was in the hospital at Aunt Janie's and he was spoiled rotten and got to play with two other dogs. It was great for him.

It was while in ICU, alone, frightened, cold and at my wits end that I thought I had reached my lowest point. I remember crying out to God in the midst of all my pain - emotionally, physically and spiritually - wondering just what, exactly, had I done wrong? Why? It was in that low place that He met me and gave me a picture in my head of one of the men here at FatihPointe that I had met when I came for a visit in October. John is wheelchair bound and his testimony and attitude are something that will be the subject of a whole other blog. It was a turning point for me because He showed me that John was praying for me... a person I only met once, but he set all the cares that he had of his own aside to pray for me. Somehow in that moment I just knew that things would be alright and that by the next Christmas, things would be better. Within 24 hours, while still in ICU, someone came and looked at the townhouse and bought it. I got out of the hospital with the agenda of having to get ready to move within a couple of weeks. I was hurting but I was ecstatic. Brighter days were coming.

We settled in quickly and efficiently into our new home here in TN. We loved the house so much and Igloo adapted as well to the country life as we did. We were blissfully unaware of changes to come. We lived, we loved and we laughed. Then in an instant, Igloo was killed along with our neighbors' dog, Sadie. We were devastated. Somehow the same routes that had brought us such peace before now became overshadowed by tears of "what might have been." Still we plugged on. Just as we were beginning to get life back into our souls, Oliver lost his job - with no explanation. Again our lives were thrown into the realm of uncertainty. Oh Lord, what will we do?

Savings exhausted by having to pay extra for moving on a short schedule and having to hire packers, a $17K loss on the old house and having to get things like appliances and curtains for the new, we were ill-equipped to meet this latest storm head-on. And then came Thanksgiving and no prospects on the horizon for a new job. Even unemployment wasn't kicking in yet and in TN, that isn't much to begin with but when you're desperate, any amount helps. No "extras" for us. We're scrimping by for the necessities but somehow we're still managing to stay afloat with the storms raging all around us.

For the first time in our lives, neither one of us had packages under the tree. No buying for everybody and their brother either. That doesn't mean our Christmas has been awful, just different. We invited some friends over for a little get together to try and spark some Christmas cheer and that worked for a day or two. We had a lovely time and we truly are grateful for the friendships we have made this past year. I have to admit that on more than one occasion I had to wonder if we would have been better off if the house up in Chicagoland had never sold, but then I see that many of our friends who have had to move still have their houses up for sale or have rented them out. I think of the people we have gotten to know here and the close bonds we have forged with them and think, no, I wouldn't trade all of them for anything.

We've had our ups and downs, our tears and smiles, our high points and low, and still we're here. We don't know what tomorrow will bring or where we'll be. We wafflle between fear and knowing that things will be alright. In the end we really do believe that all will be just fine - someday. We just kinda wish someday would get here.

So it was on Christmas Eve that I checked the weather reports one last time before heading off to bed. The wind was blowing and it was pouring out. It was 1 am and the temperature was in the upper 40's. No chance for a white Christmas this year. Oh well, nothing else about Christmas seemed "normal" anyway so why should that be different? But still I had that hope that I have always had before going to bed on Christmas eve for as long as I can remember. As I laid down in bed, I said prayers for those who I know are in much more dire predicaments than we are. There are many families apart this year and many that have had unbelievable tragedies befall them recently. My heart ached for them and I prayed for God's peace to fall upon each of them. And then at the end of the prayer I added something that I have done every Christmas eve for all of my life. "and Lord, if it is Your will, can we please have a white Christmas?"

I admit that I argued with myself in my head. I had checked the weather reports, no chance. I reminded myself that weathermen had been wrong before, on many occasions. But it was with childlike belief that I smiled and drifted off into the most restful, peaceful sleep that I have had in a long time. No tossing, no turning, no waking up several times during the night, just sweet sleep. I was surprised to see the bedroom flooded with daylight when I woke up. I couldn't believe that I had slept all night. I got up and stretched and did what I do every morning - looked out the bedroom window. I honestly couldn't believe what I saw. At first I thought that maybe it was just a heavy case of frost, but as my eyes focused I saw the most beautiful sight - a soft, gentle blanket of white. I yelled "it snowed" and Oliver came in laughing and said that he and the dogs had already been out playing in it. I smiled brighter than I had in months.

Even in the absence of all the trimmings of the season, we managed to have a wonderful Christmas. We were invited to have Christmas dinner at the home of some friends with their family and had a wonderful meal. I got to see an emu for the first time in my life. We came home to entertain our houseguests (our pastor's dogs - Toby and Buckeye) who have been wonderful in helping us get over the loss of Igloo. And we were given the glimmer of hope in the soft blanket of snow. If God was not too busy to hear the prayer of my little ol' heart asking for a white Christmas and delivering it right on time, then surely He hears our prayers for all the rest of our needs. It may not have been a perfect Christmas in the eyes of most, but for us, we learned lessons that have changed our hearts forever. It is with childlike hearts that we believe and it's with Godlike answers that He delivers. Christmas doesn't get any better than that.