The Spirit of Christmas

 Merry Christmas!!!

This year was one for the books and not necessarily in a good way.  Death, disaster, and destruction found it's way into our home this year.  Since losing my Mama in February, nothing has been the same.  The air feels different.  Food tastes different.  I am different.

I said it before and I'll say it again, grief sucks, man.

This Christmas season I have been looking for the Christmas Spirit.  I have not been able to find it.  I've been praying, listening to Christmas music since October, looking at my decorations, wrapping presents and yet, no Spirit.

Usually, I go to Mass on Christmas Eve.  However, this year with the weather all stormy and dark (which I love, just not driving in), I decided to go early on Christmas Day.

It was a beautiful Mass, however, I was having a hard time concentrating on the Mass itself.  I was people watching, looking at the beautiful nativity, just lost in my own thoughts.  Despite this, my attention would always come back to the Mass.  Nope, no Christmas Spirit yet.  I guess it was not going to happen this year.

As the Mass was ending, we began to sing the recessional song, "Joy to the World".  "Joy to the world, the Lord has come, let earth receive her King".  And, in the packed church, my eyes weld up with tears and my arms were covered in chills.  Her King.  My King.  My Lord has never and will never forget me.  The Spirit of Christmas had found me, finally.  My King had arrived!

This Advent season, I had been yearning to feel the Spirit of Christmas, and on Christmas day, I finally did.  Grief is never easy, and it's harder at the holidays to be sure.  But, with Jesus and Big Daddy, I survived.   Not only did I survive what I thought would for sure kill me, I had a multitude of blessings this year.  And on that is what I choose to focus on.  Death, disaster, and destruction did not win.  Jesus did.  And He will forever win.  May you hold the Spirit of Christmas in your heart all year round.

Love,

Me

Fr. Mike, Honesty, and my Mama

It's the third week of Advent.  The week of joy.

I can honestly say I haven't felt the Christmas spirit yet.  And, if I'm honest, I don't know if I'm going to this year.  I've joked that the only way I'll get the Christmas spirit this year is if I'm visited by 4 ghosts on Christmas eve.

Grief sucks, man.

I said it before and I'll say it again.  I miss my Mama more than I ever thought possible.  I miss her hugs, her wisdom, her laugh, and her joy.  I miss her telling me that everything is going to be okay.

But, I'm alive.  I'm here, and I'm trying.  Sort of.  Fr. Mike's homily this week was a good one (they usually are) and it resonated with me.  He talked about how we come to Jesus.  I'm paraphrasing here, do we come to Him as we truly are?  Are we honest with ourself on who we truly are?  Do we hide parts of ourself from Him?  After listening to this, it has sent me inward the last 24 hours.

I always felt/thought I came to Jesus as I am.  What you see is what you get.  That I want His will (mostly) in my life.  I come to Him in prayer for myself and others.  I've always said, I don't front.  I'm not a thee and thou girl.  I'm a here's what's going on, Dad, girl.  Going inward these last 24 hours, I realized I kinda do front. 

I'm broken.  Way more than I ever thought or realized.  I get up everyday,  slap a smile on my face, and do what needs to be done.  But, the smile isn't as genuine as it use to be.  Yes, I miss my father-in-love.  Yes, I miss my Mama.  Yes, I miss estranged family members.  Yes, I'm blessed beyond measure.  But, if I'm honest, I've been lying to God and myself.  I'm angry.  Hurt.  Tired.  I keep saying this path that I've been on for the last three years is my joy to walk.  And, it is.  But, mostly, I hate it.  I had a different future with my family planed.  I had way more joy, laughter, trips, vacations, laughter, date nights, and family time envisioned.  Not fighting with insurance, doctor visits, hospital stays, strained relationships, or funerals.  I don't like this path I'm called to walk.  But I walk it, because He asked me to.  Do I walk it joyfully?  Some days yes, some days, no.  I'm envious of others (not in a I don't want you to have it, but I want it too way).  Of their family relationships, of their trips, their vacations, their traditions, their date nights.  That's what I had planned.  I'm hurt that I don't get that.  I feel like a little kid having a tantrum "it's not fair".  But as my Mama always said "whoever told you life was fair was lying to you".   I want God's will.  I honestly do.  But, if I'm honest, I also want my will.  Can't they coincide every once in a while? 

One particular night, in the middle of the night, I awoke to use the restroom and I remember clearly talking to God "I will walk this path because you're asking me too", I said.  I don't like this path I'm being asked to walk.  But I walk it out of obedience and love for Him.  And, this path has brough unexpected blessings.   That said, I know His plans are always better than mine.  I know He has a future for me full of love and hope.  Is He trying to teach me something, probably.  Most likely.  Do I know what it is yet?  Nope.  Not a chance.  But, I trust in Him.  And, so I walk, putting one foot in front of the other.

Yes, I'm broken, for now.  On the plus side, I'm not fronting anymore (I didn't realize I was).  And now, maybe, I can begin to heal and find my joy.

Wishing you a blessed Advent season.

Love,

Me