It Has Felt Empty This Year...

Last Christmas (2010) I started a blog at the prompting of my oldest son. 
"What if we celebrated Christmas every day for a year, mom? Then we would celebrate it on the right day at some point."
Yes, every day.
That blog has morphed into a personal, spiritual overhaul for me. I am chronicling my journey as I define and subsequently strive to live out Christmas each day. As I do this, I see the emptiness of making this day special only once a year.
As Easter approached, I began to understand that Christmas was Easter and Easter was Christmas, and that I should be living what Easter means each day as well. As I looked at my definitions of Christmas I saw with such clarity that I had defined Easter too, and each one was Christ's way for me to live out my love for Him. How can I go a day without acknowledging what the Saviour did while on this Earth? What kind of child does it make me if I am not saying thank you, or not being changed? 
Here are my definitions. I am using them each day to convict and remind myself of what life is all about.


February 12th
Christmas definition # 1: Mercy
Christmas is mercy. Such mercy to be given the gift of the Christ child. My lack of mercy, loving mercy, is weighing heavily on me. I am not sure I am really loving well without showing mercy. The hesed kind of mercy. The kind that says, "I will look past what bothers me about you, what you do to hurt my feelings, where I think you fall short, how I think you could do better, where I wish you could be more like me." The kind where I chose to fiercely love my family, my friends, the world, without my "me-ness" getting in the way. Work. So much work to do.


February 14th

A day of love. What could be more Christmas than that? It isn't so hard to keep a Christmas attitude on a day designed for you to show love to others. It is certainly an excellent way to practice death to selfish desires and put others first. I stumbled a bit, but tried hard to recover. I succeeded in some ways today, giving up some things to make sure others were served.

Christmas definition #2 : Love

February 16th

I am so happy that this whole thing has already changed me. I guess I've heard that it takes three weeks to form a new habit. 

Christmas definition #3: Lasting

This whole way of thinking must be lasting, permanent. What Jesus did with his birth and death is permanent, timeless, everlasting. This can't just be a one year deal (though the blog will cease next December) but a new way to think and act that I carry with me to my grave.

February 19th

Christmas definition #4: forgiveness. Love and mercy should lead to that.

February 21st

I let too much stress play a part in today. That goes against what Jesus says about faith and trust.

Christmas definition #5: provision.

Jesus came to save us and to provide us with everything we need. For some, ultimate deliverance may mean going to Heaven - I realize that. Worrying over the details doesn't give credit to the gospel.

February 22nd

Some negative underlying current today. I found myself trying to pick fights. So very mature. Sigh. I preach this stuff to myself but I don't fully live it yet. I think that comes down to selfishness.

Christmas definition #6: Christmas is unselfish.

February 26th

Biting my tongue is a good thing to do for Christmas. If I wait to speak it saves me a lot of regret later - for all different reasons. Christmas definition #7: Speak a whole lot less, listen a whole lot more, choose to say something positive even when you feel negative.

April 24th

Easter.

Seven definitions so far of Christmas I have come to.

Where did it lead me to?

Easter.

Christmas is Easter.

Christmas definition #8 : The culmination of a God life on Earth - Easter.

#7 Speak less to hear more. Christ said we should be quick to listen. He stood quietly while accused.

#6Unselfish. Where is even one selfish second in the story of the gospel? "Not my will, but Thine."

#5Provision. Everything I need not provided by the last breath yelled out by my Savior.

#4Forgiveness. My sins. The sins of the world. Wiped clean by blood.

#3Lasting. "He shall reign forever and ever!"

#2Love. "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son."

#1Mercy. Ah, Sovereign Lord! Your mercy gives me life, keeps me from the pit. Christ's death is mercy for us all.

Young Woman

I find myself looking at her, longingly.
 I have been mourning what could have been for me. I see her, strong and confident. She is happy and free, and knows no self condemnation. I wonder at what age it went wrong for me and how I stop it for her. She has a lot of good men in her life that love her, approve of her - that will help. She approaches others with an expectant spirit, an inquisitive mind. There is no hesitation that they may not approve or reciprocate. When shy, it is usually because she doesn't want the abundance of attention she is getting.
Could we recapture that young spirit of wonder? How could we erase the scars that hold us back, mar our image of ourselves? What if we interacted with others under the premise that we could do something for each other, entertain each other? Could we see ourselves, small, near helpless, and love that fragile heart?

If I love the early version of myself, can I love this one too?
This is new for me. I've just had three rough and tumble boys, but now this girl. This woman to be. This shorter, more beautiful version of myself. So this is how I used to be? She makes me wonder about myself. I feel so old, and covered with rough edges. What do I do? How do I polish this aging self, soften the callouses that have formed over tender hurts? Can I relearn what it is to be me? What He wants me to be?
I wonder and marvel at her. Those toes I have to kiss, up to the eyes like mine and brown swirls of hair. The way she grabs my arm and says, "Mom!", so I must give her my attention.
She is good medicine, while at the same time she opens wounds, so like her, I must give them my attention.

Dear Lizzie...(13)

Dear Lizzie,
It's been awhile. I keep meaning to write, since I ponder your life at least once a week. It's too hard not to - working in your house like we are. We have peeled back the layers of history. The house has the same bones, but we have done some organ transplants and skin grafts.
It was hot yesterday - 90 degrees. Not too hot by July standards, but hot for April. Upstairs the windows were open and I stood in the west room. To my left the window your toddler plunged from, before me the clipped ceiling and short wall. The stairs, new stairs, were behind me. We have them going up the original way now, however they aren't nearly as steep as what you had to ascend. Light skipped across the floor, and the hot wind swirled around in a dance fueled by all the open windows. I could picture you sending the kids up to open the windows - or perhaps they were just left open at this time of year? I can see small beds with quilts and hear booted feet on the wood. The same birds still sing though there are more trees for them now. Did you roll up your sleeves as you had to cook over the fire? Maybe that wasn't proper.
I stand in a T-shirt and jeans, and my phone is in my pocked. I am recording the changes with it. You could never imagine. My three male children, my boys wanting to be men, but who can't quite figure it out yet - they will be sleeping up here. It has been years since anyone has. I wish I couldn't hear the cars going by every few minutes, then I could imagine it more as you had it.
I wish I could tell you that you would be so proud of me. The truth is, Lizzie, I struggle a lot. Figuring out life, being a mom, and this process of being a child of God, well, it's hard work.
I am thankful for the generations that have lived and struggled here also. I have the privilege of knowing their end results and it gives me hope.
I'll try to keep in better touch, Lizzie. In the mean time, if you need me, I'll probably be sweeping your floors.

Yours Truly,
Charity