Our son’s first deployment was also the first time our family was apart during Christmas.
The closer we got to December, the more I dreaded the Christmas to come. I did everything I could to postpone decorating the house.
This was completely out of character for me. I’d always delighted in filling the house with multiple trees, twinkling lights and all the trimmings of Christmas.
But this year I couldn’t summon my usual enthusiasm. It just didn’t seem right to celebrate so abundantly when my son was halfway around the world in the middle of a war zone.
That lack of holiday enthusiasm left me with a dilemma. I still had two other sons at home, and I felt guilty that I wasn’t giving them the holiday they deserved. I didn’t want them to think they were any less important to me than their older brother. The closer Christmas got, the more conflicted I got. It seemed there was no right answer.
Fortunately my husband is a wise and caring man. Even though I hadn’t mentioned my quandary, it turned out he knew the feelings I’d tried so hard to hide. He and the other two boys took matters in hand and organized a decorating day.
Normally, I have to browbeat everyone into helping me pull the decorations out of the attic. In the past, no amount of pleading, promises or threats could get them to help with the actual decorating. This year they took the initiative, and soon the house bustled with activity.
We didn’t put up as many trees that year, but we started a new tradition. It was the year our boys discovered decorating wasn’t a chore, but a time to celebrate family. We pulled together that year–reliving old memories and anticipating new ones–and we’ve done it every year since.
I learned that God sometimes allows trials so we’ll hold each other close and appreciate what we have. I’m thankful for all of my sons–for the memories behind us and for the joyful times ahead!
Join me this year as I make time today to look at the joy around me–not just what I wish was there.
