'Tis the Season

The peacefulness in our home is hardly indicative of the week we've had. But then, that is why I like blogging. I can take idyllic snapshots of our life and post them and it makes my life seem just that - idyllic. I don't have to talk about negative things - like how the economic downturn is affecting our business or when in the world will our rented house get siding on it. It is like a movie. I pick the scenes I want to show.

But it is more than that. I save my complaining for my private journal. My blog is what helps me see the good things in my life. I don't exaggerate them. I just notice them. It helps me be content. It is a place I go to say "Thank you" for the good things in my life. It reassures me that the negative things I experience will pass. It is the good things I want to remember when I'm old.

So when I kiss my daughter goodnight and see The Mighty Hunting hound tucked under the covers with her head on the pillow, too, and then walk into my son's room and see Old Faithful, the purebred Collie curled up, keeping watch beside his bed, my scrunched spirit revives a little. It is easier to let go of the frustration I felt at seeing the ugly side of people today. It is easier to remember that God will provide. I really have very little to do with it. I wish I had remembered that a few hours ago. It would have eased the hurt and anger and fear.

I sit writing this after everyone in my family has gone to bed. A jaunty little Christmas tree sparkles at me in the quietness. It doesn't seem to mind that it has been trimmed with childish hands, in a way that would hardly bring tree fashion awards. It is folksy, homemade, a little haphazard and brings delirious joy to the children.

Someday I'll have a tree trimmed in perfect white snowflakes and angels. Everything will be symmetrical and even. But I know it will not carry the same delight that I saw in the children's faces as they passionately strew the ornaments on their beloved tree - the tree they tromped through the woods to get with their Papa and Mama.