faithful Christmas

Dec 7

There was this Christmas eight years ago, a year that felt like the planet was spinning a bit quicker, as if we were only held on by the weight of life. Our boy had had two feet close to the edge of eternity and we were on our faces begging God not to take him.

 But then? We got a wild nudge in our souls and decided to follow it.

 We devoured the internet and researched through sleepless nights, sold everything unnecessary, moved in less than two weeks, and put every penny towards his healing-we basically went camping in a 900sq foot house for five years. And yes, it was just as nervy zealous as it sounds.

They say the harshest storms can bring the brightest rainbows and we were soaking in the whole spectrum. I’d never share this to make you sad or for pity. The light of that spectrum taught us quite a lot. Those lessons aren’t taken for granted. Bleak taught us how to see beauty.

All money had been funneling to medical bills that year. Tucking coins away for months, we had close to sixty dollars by November and allocated it for Christmas. I had no idea how to make it all work out or how I’d explain the our other children that for their brother to heal, they’d have to experience suffering as well. Most greenery came from our yard, our tree came courtesy of Freecycle, a bunny came from a homeschool family that was moving, a bicycle came from a community raffle, and a random turtle showed up next to the back steps the night before a winter rain. Most gifts were homemade and we managed to host a modest potluck.

By December 25, we were astonished that we had five dollars leftover.

We shared the details of the whole story just a few months back with the boys and one chimed in, “but, that was my favorite Christmas ever.” Mine too, sweet child.

 Something huge happens when we remove our wants from Christmas and start chasing our needs. Christmas begins to look very different, it feels different and vibrant, and an excitement emerges.