I've decided the week between Christmas and New Year's is absolutely the most depressing week. EVER. All of the hustle and bustle of Christmas is over; suddenly, there are no more parties. The presents have been opened; you've stuffed yourself with so much food that even eating no longer sounds appealing. You've paused and reflected on the Christmas story numerous times; your decorations and tree are starting to look droopy. Your children have played with their new stuff so much that some of it's already broken.
Are you depressed yet?
Maybe the depression after Christmas is the reason New Year's resolutions are so appealing. We are so down in the dumps over Christmas being over that the only thing we know to do is day dream. Day dream about what we will do in the new year, the new person we'll become, all the wonderful things we'll accomplish.
I, for one, don't want to make a bunch of goals and resolutions out of depression. I am going to pray that God leads me toward the places I need to go, and away from the things that are coming from a selfish heart. Dear God, as the Christmas season comes to a close, please keep me from dwelling on negative thoughts. Help me look to You and all that You have for us in the new year. I commit myself and my family to You, Lord. Here I am...
Stuff we do...stuff I think...stuff I feel
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
There Are No Words
There are no words.
No words to bring comfort.
No words to bring peace.
No words to give answers.
As the mom of a 6-year old girl that's in first grade, I have been deeply effected by the events that took place in Connecticut on Friday. Thoughts have been swirling in my head. These mommies that lost their children...what are they going through? How did they tell their other children that their brother or sister is not coming home? What about the next day, when the children left in the home don't understand why their sibling is not there to play with them? How do you plan a funeral for your first grader? How do you pick out clothes for the family to wear to that funeral?
There are no words.
What about the Christmas program at church that they've been practicing for months? What about the birthday party that they were planning?
There are no words.
What about the house, when it's so quiet, missing the sound of their little ones feet happily running around? The sound of them playing with their favorite toy? The sound of their voice, asking for a snack?
What about the fear their child must have felt when they saw a man holding a gun? What were the last thoughts of their child? Were they able to think of happy memories, or were they just so terrified that no thoughts came to their minds?
There are no words.
What about that Christmas present that they bought on Black Friday, hiding it from their little one's sight for several weeks, but secretly so excited to see them open it on Christmas morning? What about all of the family plans and traditions that were being planned for this very week? This very night? The Christmas pajamas that they had been wearing. The toys they loved to play with. Their clothes that still carry their scent. Their bedroom and bed that still holds a sense of their presence.
There are no words.
Oh, dear Lord...I am so heartbroken for these mommies and daddies, brothers and sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, church families, that are mourning right now. God, please hold them together. Give them strength to get through each moment. When they think they can't go on, when their heart is aching so much that they just want to rip it from their chests, God please, please hold them together.
And Jesus, please kiss those precious children for all of us remaining on earth that never met them, but feel so connected to them. Hold them in your arms, and let them play games and be free and have fun.
And help me, Lord, to never, at any time, take for granted my little girls. Let me remember that they could be taken from me at any moment. They belong to You. You blessed me in letting me care for them while we are on this earth. Thank you for reminding me that their lives, their smiles, their laughs, their hugs and their love are the very best blessings you have bestowed on me this Christmas.
Oh, God...there are no words.
No words to bring comfort.
No words to bring peace.
No words to give answers.
As the mom of a 6-year old girl that's in first grade, I have been deeply effected by the events that took place in Connecticut on Friday. Thoughts have been swirling in my head. These mommies that lost their children...what are they going through? How did they tell their other children that their brother or sister is not coming home? What about the next day, when the children left in the home don't understand why their sibling is not there to play with them? How do you plan a funeral for your first grader? How do you pick out clothes for the family to wear to that funeral?
There are no words.
What about the Christmas program at church that they've been practicing for months? What about the birthday party that they were planning?
There are no words.
What about the house, when it's so quiet, missing the sound of their little ones feet happily running around? The sound of them playing with their favorite toy? The sound of their voice, asking for a snack?
What about the fear their child must have felt when they saw a man holding a gun? What were the last thoughts of their child? Were they able to think of happy memories, or were they just so terrified that no thoughts came to their minds?
There are no words.
What about that Christmas present that they bought on Black Friday, hiding it from their little one's sight for several weeks, but secretly so excited to see them open it on Christmas morning? What about all of the family plans and traditions that were being planned for this very week? This very night? The Christmas pajamas that they had been wearing. The toys they loved to play with. Their clothes that still carry their scent. Their bedroom and bed that still holds a sense of their presence.
There are no words.
Oh, dear Lord...I am so heartbroken for these mommies and daddies, brothers and sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, church families, that are mourning right now. God, please hold them together. Give them strength to get through each moment. When they think they can't go on, when their heart is aching so much that they just want to rip it from their chests, God please, please hold them together.
And Jesus, please kiss those precious children for all of us remaining on earth that never met them, but feel so connected to them. Hold them in your arms, and let them play games and be free and have fun.
And help me, Lord, to never, at any time, take for granted my little girls. Let me remember that they could be taken from me at any moment. They belong to You. You blessed me in letting me care for them while we are on this earth. Thank you for reminding me that their lives, their smiles, their laughs, their hugs and their love are the very best blessings you have bestowed on me this Christmas.
Oh, God...there are no words.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)