“And the stockings were hung on the chimney with care.” Most of us are familiar with that phrase. In my family, Christmas stockings have always been one of the best gifts of the day. I made my first Christmas stocking after I was married. I didn't know what I was doing but I managed to make one for my husband that showed him skiing down a mountain as that was something he loved to do. From there most of them were made from kits that involved a lot of felt and sequins to create the scene. I would work on them when I was expecting my next child as I sat outside and watched the older ones play. When it came down to my youngest, she didn't get hers until she was 5 as I had my hands full with the four of them. I'm surprised I actually finished it. Each of those stockings tell a story and were chosen with much love. Some were so well loved that I had to make them a second time. I never minded. I was very protective of them and made sure they were stored carefully each year. As my family expanded over the years through marriages and births, I carried on the tradition and made stockings for each one. Every year at Christmas, I would love going shopping to find special surprises to fill them. In my old house they would hang from the mantel until they were filled and then placed under the tree. The best part of all was seeing everyone's faces as they pulled out each item. Those were special times. Now things have changed and instead of the stockings being filled and placed under my tree, they get packed in my suitcase and travel many miles. I've decided this will be the last year and when I return home from seeing my family, I will leave the stockings with them. As I made the decision, I was surprised at the emotions that rose up in me. I realized that I was afraid to let go of them because it would be the end of something I wasn't ready to give up. I found that I was holding onto something that I needed to release. It's not about the stockings, they're just a physical reminder of what used to be. There's a time to hold on and a time to let go. The Book of Ecclesiastes says it so beautifully: “To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill, And a time to heal; A time to break down, And a time to build up; A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing; A time to gain, And a time to lose; A time to keep, And a time to throw away; A time to tear, And a time to sew; A time to keep silence, And a time to speak; A time to love, And a time to hate; A time of war, And a time of peace.” Seasons change and when they do, it's an opportunity for me to change and become the best I can be and with God's grace, I can do it with peace and joy. It just occurred to me that I've never made a stocking for myself…maybe now’s the time.

Life is a constant series of events. Some good, some not. The good ones we need to hold on to. They will give us hope. I'm sure you've heard the phrase, “that's the last straw.” You could also interpret it as, “I can't take any more.” These phrases usually come to mind when you've going through a hard season and it's been one thing after another. I've been there. You've been there and now my daughter's there. It's one thing when it's happening to us but another thing when it's happening to someone we love. To watch them suffer is harder than anything else. Over the past six years, my child has experienced one life changing event after another. She's been knocked down time after time and I've watched her struggle to get back up. There have been times when she wanted to stay down and she would tell me, “I'm done.” A couple weeks ago, she drove up to South Carolina to visit her sister. She went to lend a hand with some household projects. One night she received a phone call that broke her heart. Her house is currently up for sale as she is relocating to Wyoming. A realtor had brought a family to see the house and the agent noticed one of the cats lying on the bed. He wasn't moving. My daughter called her friend to go over to the house where she confirmed that the cat had passed away. His name was Davie. If you know my Laura, you'll know she is an animal lover and takes excellent care of her pets. Davie was special to her. He was only 8 or 9 years old and must've had an undetected heart condition so his death was unexpected. Davie was more than a pet to her. He comforted her and stayed by her side during the hard times. She was devastated. The first thing she did was blame herself although there was nothing she could have done. How often have we done the same thing? We want so badly to make sense of a tragedy that often we turn it inward and begin beating ourselves up until we're worn out with guilt and shame. If only I did this or said this, maybe it wouldn't have happened; when in reality, there was nothing we could've done. Life just happened. All we can do is live each day the best we can. We can't control what the day will bring but, as I've said before, we have a choice how we respond. In Laura's case, she needed to grieve but not with shame or guilt, just raw pure emotions of sorrow. That's when the healing starts.