I'll admit, I'll be so sad to see Christmas come and go.

   Somehow it just doesn't seem like it can be time yet in a week to put away the decorations and lights, the tree and the unwrapped gifts.  And I hope as we throw away trash bags of wrapping paper and ribbons and toss out dried up pine needles by the bucketful we don't lose sight of what it is all about.  I hope we don't stop thinking about the miraculous gift of God's Son sent to earth for us....how everything in all of creation points to Him. To one baby, who grew up to be one man, who died on a cross and paid the price for our sins.  I hope just because we don't hear "Silent Night" on the radio anymore we don't stop thinking about that precious night.

   I can be such a Grinch some years around this time.  The stress all starts to completely overwhelm me and it seems like nothing is good enough, fast enough, cheap enough, nice enough.....etc.etc.  The pageant brings whole new levels of stress and there are gifts to buy and to-do lists that never get done and a house that seems perpetually messy despite my best efforts.  Everywhere we look there are gingerbread houses and advents and caroling and projects and decorations and traditions and things that can make us feel less than.

Our houses less than.
Our gifts less than.
Our traditions less than.
Our efforts less than.
Our lives less than.

   And that is the EXACT objective of the enemy.  To steal our eyes, if even for a moment, off the One who this season is all about.  Off of Christ.  Off of redemption.  Off of grace.  Off of love.

   This year, I have been so blessed already by the simplest things.  Like a neighbor bringing over this darling little gift box of cookies, when I happen to know for a fact that her little guy isn't sleeping well at night and she's up every few hours.

   Or two friends from church that brought me meals on separate occasions, just because.  I mean, is there even a better gift one could ever give a pregnant woman??!  I think not.

   I was determined not to get too caught up in the rush and hustle and bustle and hurryhurryhurry this year, and I didn't.  Randy and I are slowly building a dollhouse for our girls for Christmas, and it's slow, methodical progress has been therapeutic to me compared to elbowing the crowds at the mall.  I would much rather be in the garage with a can of paint than fighting over a parking spot in the rain.

   And my girls?  They are playing together better than ever before.  They are quickly becoming the best of friends and watching them is like watching all of my wildest dreams coming true.

   This season, and I hope it stretches on into the next, and the next, and the next...I am finding beauty in all the blessings around me.  I am holding myself to a standard of grace, and not perfection.  Because I didn't do half of the things this Christmas that all of the blogs and magazines tell me I should do.  Not even half.

But I am having one of the most merriest Christmas seasons of all.