My children grew up knowing what it meant to do without, especially the older two. We were on a strict grocery budget of $50 a week for a family of six. We didn't have money for snacks and treats but we never went hungry. There were times they had holes in their shoes and their boots leaked so we put plastic bags on their feet so they could go out and play in the snow. We did the best with what we had and I'd like to think my kids grew stronger because of it. The Bible says the apostle Paul learned to be content whether he had little or plenty. We tried to hold onto that. We experienced many miracles over the years in our times of need. I call them miracles because they came at just the right moment and sometimes with no explanation. One of those miracles came on Christmas Eve. I don't remember the year but I know my children were young. It had been a hard year financially as my husband was in and out of work. As Christmas drew near, our parents sent some money for presents and I was thankful but my mother's heart longed to give them more. On this particular Christmas Eve, I had put the kids to bed. The tree was up, cookies were baked and now it was just a matter of waiting. The only lights on in the house were that of our Christmas tree. It was calm and peaceful. It was then I heard a knock on the door. I wondered who it could be at that time of the night. When I opened the door, no one was there. The only thing I saw were shopping bags filled with presents. I was so surprised that it took a minute to realize it wasn't a dream. There was a shopping bag for each child. As I placed the gifts under the tree, I was filled with awe at the generosity. I don't have to tell you of the joy on their faces the next morning when they saw all the presents under the tree. Several years later I found out who blessed my family that Christmas Eve. It was a woman who knew someone in our church. She wanted to bless someone at Christmas and she was given our name. It turned out, she ran to the side of the house after knocking on our door and watched as I saw the gifts and brought them inside. I don't know if she ever realized what her kindness meant to us. If you'd ask any of my children today about those times we were blessed by others, they'd remember. It wasn't many years later that my children lost their Dad. He died in November and the holidays were upon us. Many of our family traditions were based on his love of Christmas. They seemed empty without him. When we were first married, we started a tradition of helping at least one person at Christmas time, even if it was a plate of homemade cookies. We carried on that tradition as our family grew and now we were faced with our first Christmas without him. As I remembered the joy of giving and receiving over past Christmases, I made a decision that we would carry on our family tradition. There were years we chose a family and bought gifts. There were years we went to nursing homes on Christmas morning with gifts and cookies to spend time with those who were lonely. Those were the best Christmases we ever had. The one question I've asked myself is, “Is it better to give or receive?” When we give without expecting anything in return, there's a joy like none other that pierces our soul and brings goodness and mercy to the surface. When we are on the receiving end, we feel seen and cared for and loved. So I encourage you to give and receive this Christmas for isn't that what it's all about? John 3:16 NIV “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

I had always looked forward to being a grandmother. Both of mine passed away before I was born and I couldn't wait to have my own. When my oldest granddaughter was three years old, we started a tradition. I took her to The Nutcracker Ballet every Christmas. I would buy her a fancy dress and it became an annual date that we both loved. At first it was just the two of us but over the years it grew as we added cousins and friends. It was always a special time. Two years ago, all of my granddaughters moved down south. As Christmas approached, my heart was heavy as I realized this tradition had come to an end. I struggled with this realization and I had to examine my heart to find out why the grief was so strong. The answer came as a surprise. I thought the real reason was about not wanting to accept change and letting go of tradition but underneath it all was a fear of being forgotten. I was afraid if I couldn't carry on the tradition then some day after I was gone, the memory of me would fade away. I wanted my life to mean something to someone. I wanted to be remembered. I want to leave a legacy but I had to ask myself if it is more important that they remember me or what I stood for? Do I want them to just remember the places we went and the things we did or do I want them to remember they saw Jesus in me and they were loved, valued and accepted. That's the truth and that's what I hope they remember. I'm thankful to say this story has an unexpected happy ending. Today I had the pleasure of taking my daughter and all three granddaughters to The Nutcracker. It was a miracle how it all worked out as we all live in different states. I don't know if we'll be able to go again next year but I'm not going to worry about it. All I know is a lost dream was restored and I have a different perspective. My oldest granddaughter is now 11 and takes ballet. I watched her face as she watched the performance. There was an understanding now of hard work and commitment. She has a love and a passion that was planted when she was a little girl. This tradition isn't about me. It's about planting love and goodness and hope into future generations. I told her if she ever dances in The Nutcracker, I'll be there.

If you know little boys, you know they are an entity unto themselves. Growing up, I had one sister. I played with girls and never did any babysitting as a teenager so boys and their character were foreign to me. When I had my two sons, my eyes were opened. Suddenly I had these two little boys whose brains functioned in ways I couldn't grasp. Thankfully they never set anything on fire but there was a day I'll always remember. It was a warm, sunny day. The kids were playing outside in the backyard and my husband and I were inside. Suddenly we heard the kind of scream that propels a parent into fight or flight. It was coming from the backyard and it was our son. My husband jumped to his feet and started running toward the back door. He didn't even stop to put his shoes on. I wasn't far behind. I'll never forget the scene that awaited us. At first we didn't see our son as we looked out over the yard. That was because the screaming was coming from up above. As we looked toward the sound, there he was high in a tree towering above the house. He was hanging parallel to the ground with his hands and feet wrapped around a branch. My first thought was to yell, “what in the world possessed you to climb up there?” My husband didn't need clarification. He simply ran over and stood underneath the branch where our son was hanging. He took one look at his terrified face, extended his arms out in front of him and said, “Let go, I'll catch you.” My son started screaming that he couldn't do it but my husband calmly reassured him. My son had a choice to make and I watched the resignation cross over his face and he let go of the branch. His father caught him without a problem. When I think of that time, I am reminded that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. So many times I thought I was going in the right direction only to find out I ended up in a place I didn't want to be and I didn't know how to get out. It wasn't until I cried out to my Father in heaven that I saw the way and it always started with God saying, “Let go. Trust me.” Sometimes the way was easy and sometimes it was hard but He always “caught” me and put my feet on solid ground. Psalm 40:2 says: “He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.” If you're finding yourself in a place where there seems to be no way out, I encourage you to say these three words, “God help me.” He will hear you and He will make a way. It's ok to let go.

In December of 2023, I had just returned home from a trip out west. After being terrified to fly for many years, I was proud of myself for flying and navigating one of the largest airports in the world. I came home and sat down in my recliner so I could unwind and relax. After a little while, I stood up and felt pain in my left knee. It happened suddenly, out of the blue and took me on a journey I didn't want to take. Since then I have had multiple doctors visits, several rounds of physical therapy and arthroscopic procedures on both knees. This was the first time I faced mobility issues and I watched my confidence fade and fear rise up where it had never been before. I found myself looking at the ground with every step, making decisions about my social life based on how much walking I'd need to do, getting a wheelchair at the airport, and using a handicapped placard in my car. This disability controlled my life. Last week I finished my last round of physical therapy. I am thankful to say it helped me. I've been able to go grocery shopping, take short walks and stand while talking to others. Things I used to take for granted. Today I had an appointment. When I pulled into the parking lot, there were only two spots available. One was a handicapped spot right in front of the door. The other was all the way down near the end of the lot. By habit, I pulled into the handicapped spot and immediately the thought came to mind, “do I really need to park in the handicapped spot?” I found myself backing out and driving to the end of the lot. It was after my appointment when I was walking back to my car that I heard this still small voice say, “You are no longer handicapped so why do you act like you still are?” If you have ever had an epiphany moment, this was one of mine. I had gotten comfortable being handicapped. There were actually some benefits to it such as the parking and special assistance at the airport, and if I'm being honest, being able to use my handicap as an excuse to get out of doing what I didn't want to do. I felt justified in asking for help. It was ok at the time but all through this ordeal I had asked God to heal me and now that I was in a better place, I was afraid to let go. This revelation went deeper than a physical handicap. It affected me mentally and spiritually as well. I was afraid to let go because then I wouldn't have anywhere to hide but in doing so, I gave power to fear. It affected me spiritually because I doubted God really cared about me. The healing was taking too long and I was afraid I would never get my life back. If you know God, you know He doesn't always do things our way. This was a valley moment for me. It's been a place of searching and questioning if I believed He was good and His Word was true. I found myself telling Him, “God, I've done everything I know to do.” That was the problem. I've lived my life thinking nothing good happens unless I earn it. I couldn't have been farther from the truth. I have to tell you that as I walked back and forth to my car, there was a sense of freedom. It felt good. Now, hopefully, I can look at my life through a different lens. I have to be realistic because of my age. There are some things I can't do now, like climbing ladders, but it's not because I'm handicapped, it's just life and I'm learning to be ok with that.

What do these things have in common: a dog's leash, Christmas lights, yarn, and neck chains …they all get tangled! If you've ever tried to untangle any of the above, you know how frustrating it can be…especially for a control freak. The neck chains are the worst. I can remember pulling one out of my jewelry box only to find a twisted tangled mess. I used to get a safety pin and painstakingly pull on each loop. I couldn't put it down until I had it untangled. OCD? Maybe. Life gets tangled in much the same way. For me, it happens in relationships, especially with loved ones. Maybe it's because the standards are higher and expectations are not met; or it's because we make ourselves vulnerable to those we love and our hearts feel the pain more deeply. Whatever the reason, things get tangled and become complicated. I have found myself in that place several times in my life. I don't like it when someone is upset with me so I try hard to make things right. It's not a matter of who's right or wrong. It's about the fact that in their eyes, I've offended them and whether it was intentional or not, they were hurt. Sometimes an apology isn't enough. Trust has been broken and it takes time to build it back up again. So what do you do when you've done everything you can to reconcile and the rejection is still there? You take a step back. You wait and you pray. You'll need to fight against the anger and resentment. Keep your heart in the right place. For me, it's a place of love and forgiveness and hope. Depending on the circumstances and the depth of the relationship, it could take awhile. I'm in a waiting period and I'm not going to kid myself. It may not happen in my lifetime but I do know this, I can wait with hope and peace and I can pray for them. Does it still hurt? Yes. There are days I grieve the loss of them but then I am gently reminded to let them go and trust the One who loves them more than I ever could. I read this verse today which may have have prompted my thoughts: John 13:34 NIV: “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. If anyone knew how to love others through rejection, it was Jesus. He loved, He suffered, He forgave and He waits. He waited for me, He waits for you.