love makes all the difference | day 1

The holidays are always a busy time of the year. For everyone. I’m not self-centered enough to admit that it’s only stressful for me.

And yet this year, has been the worst. For my family. For me.

What was already going to be a difficult holiday season has somehow become so much worse. I hate even saying that my challenges and the challenges of my family are particularly hard, because I know that they are so small compared to what others experience. I also know though, that throughout life there is a certain ebb and flow to our trials. And I know that we are given trials that are specific to us. Things that may seem small to others can really be complex and intricate tribulations to ones own heart.

For now and for me, life has been particularly hard.

I’ve hit rock bottom. And it couldn’t have happened at a worse time of the year. My favorite.

A precious few of you may know to what extent our family has been tried these last few months. More specifically – how I have been tried. The vast majority of you will only know of the thing that set off this curse-ridden season. Sure, it’s the largest and the most far-reaching – but it’s not the icing on the fruitcake.

I’m reminded of a thought from President Uchtdorf: "Why must we all experience sadness and tragedy? Why could we not live in bliss and peace, each day filled with wonder, joy, and love? . . . "The scriptures tell us that there must be opposition in all things, for without it we could not discern the sweet from the bitter."

I follow this with another thought that I fell upon this week. I don’t seem to be able to find the right words to express my current frame of mind – and yet here they are, all wrapped up in a pretty package:

Between the Once Upon a Time and the Happily Ever After there's a whole lot of life that has to be endured and overcome. As I wander somewhere in between the Once Upon a Time and the Happily Ever After – it's easy to feel a little lost and lonely. Carried only by hope in the promise of a Happily Ever After, which I am fairly confident doesn't come in this life. At least not completely. But there is a promise, which I am fairly confident, God intends to keep.

In my quest to complete all the ‘I musts’ – a lot of the ‘I needs’ are being tossed by the wayside. The ‘I wants’ are being abandoned all together. It really is a sad thing to me – because all of the ‘I wants’ happen to be my families’ Christmas traditions.

Too much to do, too far behind – too much cropping up. Just when I thought that I had a ‘plan’ in place to at least accomplish all that needs to be done by Friday – which would still require moving mountains and total sleep deprivation and a few tears – Brian and Ammon got sick. They have both been very, very ill for over a week now. We now know that Ammon has an ear infection – his first. Scary what I have had to deal with because of that? Absolutely. Saddened that I can’t make it all go away? Without a doubt. Bad timing? You think?

I – somehow – have managed to dodge the sickness that has plagued the both of them. But never fear … I’ll feel like death warmed over by Christmas. You can count on it. That's just my luck.

Because of these illnesses, my ‘plan’ has been thrown off-course and I am back in my pit. That pit which suddenly seems deeper. And I want to weep because Christmas isn’t going to be all that I wanted it to be this year. All I dreamed it would be.

We’ve cancelled some things. We’ve put some things off. We have modified many a thing to ‘make it work’. I wish I could honestly say that I was okay with all of this. But I haven’t been. I miss those things that make Christmas magical in our home. I guess I am even more upset because I just wrote about my Scrooge McGrinch experience from last year. I had planned on turning that experience on its head this year – and it may seem now that I have been unsuccessful. I would like to say, though, that this? This isn’t the same thing. I have plenty of Christmas spirit this year. It just isn’t our normal Christmas. And seeing the magic in that situation has been difficult. For me. Heck, we haven’t been able to do, see or feel much of anything this December.

I’ve put up our Christmas decorations. I took the time to do that – and I’m glad. I felt the pressure all around me as I spent that day elbow deep in red and green. I enjoyed doing it, thankfully – but it all came crashing down again soon after, when I realized how much further behind I was.

We weren’t able to get a Christmas tree this year. Not a real one, as we always do. Thankfully, we are using my mom’s artificial tree – which I’m very grateful for, but it’s not the same. It will never smell right. It will always look too perfect – with no character. It will always be much smaller than what I’m used to.

I had to laugh to myself when I read a recent post on the blog of the lovely Jasmine Star. I thought her words were witty and true – as I always do. It wasn’t until we put up this little foreign tree in our living room, that I really began to chortle wholeheartedly. To quote her:

... shall I say ‘tr’ because it's too small to be a tree. It's more like a Christmas bush. When he brought it out of the car, I swore elves hurdle trees like that. Barbie called and wants her tree back. The Munchin Association is pressing charges for deforestation. I could put a safety pin on that tree and wear it on a Christmas sweater.

I justify our reasons for not getting a live tree. I understand them and the necessity of them makes sense to me. After all, we won’t be in town for Christmas. And yet – it still just isn’t the same. As Brian put the tree together and began on the lights, I fluffed and fussed over its green branches. Trying to give it a little life. All I kept telling myself was, “It’s just not right.”

After Brian hung the lights, we opened up our ornament boxes and a flood of memories washed over me. Emotion reigned as I took out each precious little piece of our families’ existence. All those recollections of Christmases past.

I’ll admit, though, that – even then – I was in a hurry to get the job done. Complete the task so that I could move onto the next thing. Instinctively, I asked Brian if he wanted to listen to some Christmas music. Because that’s what we always do. As we continued to decorate our little tree, the music flowed into one ear and out the other. I wasn’t listening. I wasn’t paying attention. And yet a particular cord stabbed through the fog – straight to my heart.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas –
let your heart be light.
Next year all our troubles
will be out of sight.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas –
make the Yule-tide gay.
From now on,
our troubles will be miles away.

Here we are as in olden days –
happy golden days of yore.
Faithful friends who are dear to us,
gather near to us once more.

Through the years we all will be together –
if the Fates allow.
Until then,
we’ll have to muddle through somehow.
So have yourself
a merry little Christmas now.

What I needed to hear. I just stopped what I was doing and listened. Thank you, James Taylor. Thank you for touching my heart.

Something changed then – I put my heart and soul into decorating that tree. And I have to say, it made all the difference. Love made all the difference.

When the tree was complete, Brian reminded me to snuggle on the couch with him while we played ‘Stille Nacht’ (‘Silent Night’) by Mannheim Steamroller (this piece can be found in our Christmas playlist on the right sidebar). Because we do this every year. I don't really know why we do it - apart from that we do. Since Christmas #1. We turn off the lights in the house and sit and enjoy our beautiful tree – while letting the peaceful, calming melody soak through our skin. I know it sounds like a very simple thing – and yet it has a special effect on my soul. It is the one, true time during the season when all is quiet – and I can ponder, and reflect. This night was no different – though it created more of a high for me, because I was coming from such a low point. I took the time to look around the room. I looked again to that little tree. I recognized all our favorite ornaments – the first one we got as a married couple; the one Brian and I raced to the Christmas store at Universal to get before they closed; the one we finally scored after that heinous battle last Christmas; the one Ammon picked out this year. I looked at our stockings – and remembered the ‘experience’ surrounding each one … and my thankfulness swelled to the surface as I contemplated how grateful I was to have that piece of my mom in our home. My eyes spied my beloved pixies – a gift from my grandmother … and something that I played with as a child during my Christmas breaks from school ... and cherished. I saw my Santa key – and I remembered the joy and squeals of glee that resulted when I finally found one for our home. I glanced at our advent calendar – and I pictured assembling it on our living room floor back on Woodburn Drive, as I was waiting for Ammon to make his grand appearance in the world … the time I found out too late that I could no longer get up off the floor. Last, I saw our Nativity – and I remembered how, just days before, we had placed all of those lovely pieces while reading Luke 2.

I was reminded that things that are worth it – are also worth the work. I need to make this season bright – because it is important. I need to let me heart be light. I need to not hide my Christmas spirit under a bushel – simply because I am too busy to show it. Or too disappointed to see it for what it was. I was reminded to enjoy this Christmas – as it is. I was reminded to make it was it needs to be.

Despite the circumstances that have altered this Christmas season, there is much we can do – much we can feel – that will make this Christmas just as magical as all the ones that have come before. Love is the most important ingredient. And that is something that we always have on hand. We cannot always avoid the trials that come into our life. We cannot always prepare for the things that befall us. And yet, we can determine how we look at them.

Channeling my inner Charlie Brown – I have to admit:

It’s not such a bad little tree.

Love … that’s what makes all the difference.

Lyrics: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas; Hugh Martin