Getting there . . . slowly.

With the children tucked in, prayed for, and told "I love you," I head downstairs to write. Instead, I end up reading, trying to catch up on friends' blogs, finding out the latest news on Facebook (terribly addictive social networking site that feels like reading magazines about your friends), and checking e-mail.

Always waiting for the perfect opportunity to jot down a few thoughts, I find myself reading more than writing these days. It's easier to sneak in a few pages of a book than it is to open my computer and write coherent phrases. My kids are FULL of life and energy and ideas and fun. I'm trying to "realize life" as I live it--to be "in the moment" as much as possible--to fully absorb these fleeting moments I have with my growing children.

I glance up and see a picture of Miriam when she was four months old. So tiny. So soft. So precious. She's full of wonder and delight and personality and opinions now. I'm going to try to upload a video of her tonight . . .

after I add a couple pictures of the kids to this post (at the request of my dear friend Joan who loves visuals and who recently started blogging--YAY!) The pictures I chose are from Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with Grandaddy (James' dad) and Papa (my dad). I love watching my children interact with their grandparents and the grandparents get such a kick out of their grandchildren!

My grandmom asked me what I got for Christmas this year. I could have responded with the material gifts, but what came to mind were two experiences that were greater gifts to me than anything else I received.

The first experience happened on Christmas Eve when the kids opened their gifts from Auntie Lisa in Minnesota. When I read her card, I got all teary-eyed. Lisa and Nate, whose only child is a sweet little puppy, donated two boxes of toys to Operation Christmas Child on behalf of Judah and Miriam. I couldn't believe it. My friend Lisa, whom I've known longer than I've been married . . . 12 years? 13 years? Donated toys to children who may not own a single toy. She gave each of my children a little something (that they LOVED), but she gave even more to children who might not receive anything all year--on behalf of my children. What an amazing gift.

The second experience happened on Christmas Day. Last year's Christmas with the Todd family was awkward and uncomfortable. This year was, perhaps, the best Christmas we've ever spent together. Not only was everyone kind to each other, but we also received a gift from James' brother Ben that I will never forget. Ben said that he wanted to be especially generous this year, but he looked at the toys that his children own (that go on for days) and said that if he had it to over again, he would do it differently. He appreciated that we didn't go overboard for Christmas (we bought Judah one toy--a $6 bow and arrow that probably could have waited until his birthday given all the toys he received from everyone else--and didn't buy anything for Miriam) and that we aren't focused on material things. He gave James an envelope with some money in it and told him to do what he wanted with it. We set it aside to seek God about how He would have us use it. For the first time in our marriage, I felt heard and understood by someone on James' side of the family. For years I've felt like an oddball. Weird. Abnormal. Peculiar. Misunderstood. And for the first time, I felt embraced. Loved. Accepted. Understood. Honored.

This Christmas was significant in many ways, but what made it particularly meaningful for me was having two people in our lives who blessed us in immaterial ways, speaking to the deepest parts of our hearts.

What a glorious way to begin a new year.