Tis' the "Season"

   
     The other night I was absolutely exhausted.  I decided I would go to bed "early" once I finished the absolutely essential cleaning that had to happen.  So I "finished" up my chores (This will never actually happen) and headed to bed at 10:45, which is early for me (especially in the month of December).  I was so proud of myself.  I even remembered to move the elf.  Thank you.  I set my alarm for 6:20 AM and settled in for a long night's sleep.  Well..... At 11:42 PM a certain 2 year old entered my room crying for Mommy.  I still don't know how she got out of her room.  She can't open the door, and the other kids deny assisting her.  So, I picked her up and cuddled her trying to calm her down.  About 10 seconds after I got her into my bed I heard a 10 year old voice in the dark "Mom.  I don't ....." Then a sound that I assume could only be matched if you knocked down Hoover Dam.  An explosion of water hit the wood floor in our bedroom.  It was totally dark and I had refused to open my eyes at this point and just hoped that maybe the roof was leaking or someone accidentally peed in the floor.  I knew this was unlikely as there were audible heaves occurring.  Well, sure enough, Ty had thrown up all over the floor.  Brian jumped up to help him.  I got up to try to get Brinley back in her bed, and with her on my hip slipped in the vomit, nearly falling into it.  I had it splattered from my knees down.  So Brinley is screaming, Ty is in our shower (still throwing up), and I step into the bath tub in my gown (Brinley still on my hip) and start washing my legs.  Meanwhile Brian is cleaning up the floor.  We manage to get Ty cleaned up and Brinley back into bed after 30 or 45 minutes.  It was lovely.  Then I had a hard time getting back to sleep and woke up the next day more exhausted than I had been the day before.  And this is pretty much a narrative of my every day life these days.
     I LOVE Christmas.  I mean I LOVE it y'all.  On November 1st each year the Christmas season officially commences in my mind.  No offense to Thanksgiving.  I love it too.  I just see them as a joint package, like peanut butter and jelly.  Christmas music begins for me on November 1st.  In fact, after going into labor with Ty on Halloween of 2005 and laboring WAY too long I realized it was November 1st and completed my labor to the tune of Jim Brickman's Christmas CD.  He came into the world on just the right day. :)  Also, on November 1st I start wearing Christmas socks every day.  Now, other people usually can't see them underneath my boots, but I know that they are there.  The joy this brings me is unexplainable.  I feel like Will Ferrell in Elf when I am wearing Christmas socks.  I admit that I even love Christmas sweaters.  Every time I get invited to an "Ugly Christmas Sweater" party I am so happy because it means that I get to wear what I secretly want to wear everyday.  I almost started wearing sequin-adorned Christmas sweaters in college, but my sister derailed my plan by giving me a look that said "Go ahead and wear that, but don't be surprised when you end up an old maid with 30 cats."  Christmas sweaters weren't fun and trendy yet then.  She was right.  I would certainly have been the weirdo on campus.  But make no mistake, when I turn 50 I will be wearing Christmas sweaters daily from November 1st-December 25th.  It just has to happen.  And I will own it.  Like a boss.  Christmas means all things awesome for me.  Jesus is my favorite.  He's the absolute best.  Throw in family, friends, singing, baking, gifting, lights, cookies, parties - it really just can't be beat.  But here's the problem.  As a child it was all fun and games.  Other people did the work, and I enjoyed the benefit of their work.  Now, as an adult I am finding that Christmas feels a whole lot like work some days.  The endless list of parties, programs, teacher gifts, Santa shopping, special theme days, etc., etc. are absolutely exhausting.  I am trying so hard not to let the busyness of Christmas suck the joy out of "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year".  Some days I do better at this than others, but this season is certainly one of joy and stress.  They coincide these days, but I wouldn't give up the joy in order to lose the stress.  Christmas is my favorite season no matter how tiring it may be.
     As a mom life is often referred to as a season.  When you are enduring sleepless nights with a newborn a sweet older mother will tell you "It's just a season, Honey."  When you feel too tied down with littles to even get out of the house you will hear it again "It's just a season."  And on and on.  There are seasons upon seasons, and sometimes when you have multiple children you are living through several of these big "seasons" at a time.  Some are long.  Some are short.  All are precious.  This season that I am in right now is busy.  It is hard.  It really demands my all and then some.  I frequently have to ask God to stand in and be enough to handle my life because I am not enough on my own.  People frequently ask me "How do you do it with 4 kids?"  Here is the answer: I frequently have days where I feel hopeless that I will ever get a grip on my life.  I frequently have days where I hang my head and cry from frustration or exhaustion.  I frequently fail at being the mom my kids need me to be or the wife my husband needs me to be.  BUT, I also frequently laugh so hard with my family that I cannot breathe.  I frequently get hugs and kisses from my kids that make me sure there is no better job on earth than the one that I have.  I frequently watch my children as they do something I taught them and realize that there are some things I am actually doing right.  And most importantly, I frequently go to my Father and seek His help with this crazy thing called motherhood.  I am nothing without Him. 
     A couple of weeks ago I was feeling particularly stressed out and overwhelmed with my "season", and I went to visit my grandmother in her assisted living home.  My grandmother has Alzheimer's pretty badly.  She doesn't remember who I am anymore.  This is particularly hard because I was so close to her growing up.  I have so many memories with her, and she no longer shares those memories with me.  She can't remember me, and then she is embarrassed that she doesn't know who I am.  Watching someone you love suffer through Alzheimer's is so incredibly heartbreaking.  So, I was visiting with her and had a couple of my kids with me.  We enjoyed a good visit.  We answered all of her questions about 10 times each, and then we got up to leave because it was dinnertime for the residents.  As I walked out into the hallway I saw the procession of elderly men and women heading to the dining room.  Most all were using walkers, barely limping along.  They moved slowly and their bodies were weak.  They had gray hair or no hair.  They had wrinkled skin that told the stories of their lives.  They filed in one by one to get whatever dinner had been prepared for them.  And I stopped in my tracks.  "This is their season."  For my grandmother her season is one where she can't even remember the ones she loved.  Many of these men and women are rarely visited by their own children and grandchildren.  And it hit me.  Some day I will only get to see my kids if they choose to come see me.  Someday I will live alone in a room with a television or a good book as my only companions, and the stress and the worry of taking care of a family will be far behind me.  Someday my husband will likely be gone (We all know women live longer, and he borderline robbed the cradle.) I won't have him around to take care of me, nor will I be taking care of him.  My kids will have their own busy lives, and I will be a dependent.  Someday I might not remember all the days that got me to the day that I am living.  Someday my season will be my last season.
   Oh Dear God, forgive me for not seeing the beauty of this season right where I am right now.  It is not easy.  But it is joy, Lord.  It is such joy.  Let me at Christmas and all year long remember that You have blessed every "season" of my life by being present in every moment.  Let me not allow a schedule to bring me such stress that I can't even see the wonder of the ones I am walking out the schedule alongside.  Lord, you have given so richly to me in my husband and four children.  Let me never take for granted that this enormous responsibility is also an enormous gift of grace.  Oh, this season, it demands my all.  But following You always will demand my all.  And you are worth it.  And they are worth it.  And life is short and fragile.  And You are forever.  Help me count the victories, not the defeats.  Help me relish the hugs, not grimace at the messes.  Help me to bless, not to curse.  Help me to abide, not to worry.  Help me to love like you love.  This season that is bleeding me dry is almost certainly the one that will fill my life with the most joy.  You came that I might have life and have it to the full.  I claim this blessing now, Lord Jesus.  Amen.