December 2018

When most people have long since posted their Christmas pictures and New Year's resolutions, I'm reaching back to the beginning of December. I maintain that late is better than never.

There was a line that swirled around my head all month, words of a carol that enveloped my heart in occasions of quiet.

"Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth"

Yes, the soul felt its worth because the Lord came to save. His love establishes our worth, makes us precious, makes us whole. What a marvelous truth to grasp, or at least endeavor to comprehend and simply receive. I guess I'd glossed over the words in times past, but this year I was gripped by them repeatedly. Over and over, the words captured my thoughts: "and the soul felt its worth." To feel is far more powerful than to merely know.

December was fabulous: Parts were fabulous in celebration and parts were fabulously hard. I am committed to seeing and remembering the good while learning from our trials, so I will dwell mostly on the good parts today. I pondered the more difficult aspects before the Lord, and speak of them carefully with those closest to me, confident that good will always emerge.

December is for parties of all kinds, especially birthdays. Although Andrew's birthday is at the end of November, he celebrated with friends a week later. (The power went out that night and we spent the bulk of our time iceskating, so I have limited pictures on my DSLR.)

Fourteen years for Andrew. He's doing life well. He is hard-working, entrepreneurial, disciplined, kind. In the car this morning, he told me how yesterday's sermon from Psalm 90 helped him to further understand God's eternality and the immeasurable grace of his forgiveness. I have so much to be thankful for.

A Sunday morning "birthday" picture, below~

This one makes me smile. The placement of his hand is proof that the early teen years are awkward, a time of growing comfortable in how one projects himself to the public. Is it OK to show affection to your mother? Naturally and regularly affectionate, his uneasiness humors me. I am reminded that we are in a season where both my understanding and affirmation are important in his development. (Evidently, I forgot to stand straight and suck in, which says something about how much I care about my "image projection" these days!)

December is for Michael. Sixteen on the 16th.

His slender frame is 6'3" tall. It has become a near impossible task to find clothes that fit. We have to choose between length or width/waist.

The Friday before his birthday, I had arranged to secretly drop off a bunch of cupcakes with one of his friends at school. As luck would have it, it turned out to be a combined lunch hour (all grades) AND open mic. The whole school sang Happy Birthday.

We drove up the coast for a late birthday lunch after church on the 16th, then took in the vast ocean views from the hills before heading back for him to meet up with friends at the theater.

He is beautiful to me. He will be a wonderful adventure for a special someone to discover some day. He is an interesting mix of extroversion and introversion. He is well-liked at school, humorous, and fascinating if he allows you in. He is understated in his skills and abilities, and a wealth of random facts. Things that are unclear to me tend to be so obvious to him. And, if I'm honest, he remains my "wild card." He is the child that leaves me searching, wondering what's on the inside, surprised by what emerges; he keeps me on my knees, sending up flares for prayers, and dangerously more like myself than not.

These days are going by too fast. To those in the infant, toddler, and pre-school years, be aware of the brevity of time now. And if your season is in the bickering middle years, or the smelly pre-teen years, or the precarious teens, endeavor to enjoy each stage dearly. I promise you won't regret it.

December in California is for pomegranates. I was thankful for some regular days of regular home life, afternoon sunlight, a superfood of ruby-colored jewels, and a son who enjoys listening to literature while helping out his mom. I paid him $1 for each pomegranate he seeded, even though he ate a ton.

This December was especially for "lasts." The month is the last of the year, of course, but it marked many other lasts for me. Would this be the last time for the whole family to gather together in the living room to decorate the tree? Probably yes.

It was also probably the last time all four kids accompany me to the tree lot.

We picked out a lovely tree with a wonky top, making it hard to hold the heavy star, but at least we were all to blame for our selection. It took a couple attempts with Jacob atop Jon's shoulders; finally we pulled up chairs to climb up and fasten it. It still gave me grief all season!

Another last: Olivia's last morning departure for her last high school final. I chose to smile past the lump in my throat.

Jacob and I foraged for evergreens and pinecones together. Andrew had more interesting things to do, and I suspect this might be the last year Jacob tags along as I search for Christmas decor. We pitched and bowled the pinecones into the bag before racing to the party store to buy Olivia's graduation balloons.

A short word about reality... December has traditionally proven to be a season of trial in this household, and burn-out has marked us repeatedly. Ministry was never meant to be an easy way of life, so why should we be surprised? Still, we are broadsided at times. We are thankful for some personal time of respite to regroup, reconnect, refocus, exhale, and strategize for a new beginning. (My short word is over.)

Christmas Eve family games~

Christmas morning waiting~

To me, the face of the giver is just as wonderful as the face of the receiver...

One of my gifts: an engraved brass plate for my preacher-husband's pulpit.

Andrew took it upon himself to fill everyone's stockings. He packed them with Coca-Cola bottles, treats and snacks, gift cards, and carefully selected personal gifts. He's claimed the stockings for next year.

This was the last picture on my camera for the year~

Here's to looking at the new year with big, expectant eyes. May our "lasts" toast cheerfully with "new beginnings" like good friends gathered for New Years.

New beginnings. Let that wash over you with joy.


~Katherine