Nine days until Christmas: I hear footsteps on the roof, and it’s not Santa. The footsteps belong to Don, my husband. He’s embellishing the house with lights for the season. For thirty-two years he has lit up our home with color and watched the eyes of the children light up with JOY. In the beginning, he did the labor of love for our children. Today, he decorates for the grandchildren.

Don’s task reminds me the season has begun and I’m not ready. I must find the perfect tree. I haven’t decorated my home. What should I plan for Christmas Eve dinner? I need to shop for gifts. Ugh—all that wrapping. I’m exhausted before I even begin.

Eight days left: I love lists. They keep me focused on the task at hand. It’s essential to make a list that encompasses everything I must do before Christmas. The list may take me an entire day to write. I must have a little Santa in me, since I make my list and check it twice. By the end of the day, I’m ready to proceed with Christmas preparations.

Seven days left:  First things first, I gather all the decorations from my many storage areas. Then, Don and I find the picture-perfect fir. He lugs the tree into the house and sets it in the stand. The task of decorating belongs to me. My thoughts wander to next month’s electric bill, as I struggle to put the five strands of twinkling lights on the beautifully shaped fir.

Our tree is an angel tree, decorated with love for my angels. The ornaments I’ve collected over the last thirty years are meticulously hung. I carefully climb the ladder and place the special angel on the top branch of the fragrant fir—an angel that has set atop my tree for almost forty years. The evergreen-scented fir tree is turned into a heavenly realm with my collected angelical ornaments. My once-a-year act of love towers over me. A pleased smile on my face, I am anxious to share the tree with the family.

Five to Six days left: Since I don’t like to shop, it’s important for me to start with a list. Our family seems to expand right before my eyes. I panic and wrack my brain for gift ideas. What do I buy for our ten precious grandchildren and their parents? What about my husband? I must not forget anyone. I sit in my favorite chair, pen to blank paper, without a clue of what to put on the list. I calm myself with a quick prayer, and, as if by magic, the empty page is filled with gift ideas. My list and I head out the door to shop. Many hours later, I drop the packages on the bedroom floor, fall into bed, and start all over again the next morning. I am pleased with each unique gift for those near and dear to my heart.

Three to four days left: It’s time to turn these perfect gifts into presents. I drag out the shiny wrapping paper, ribbon, bows, and tags, and toss them on the middle of the living room floor with my purchases. The room resembles a war zone, but I work around the chaos as one by one, with a tenderness found deep inside of me, I wrap each gift. As I finish each present, I add the tag, say a prayer for the loved one who will receive the gift, cross the person from my list, and place the present under the tree. Whew, next year I’ll use gift bags.

Two days before Christmas: When my husband and I married thirty-one years ago, we began a Christmas tradition for our new blended family. The evening of the twenty-fourth is our appointed time to get together as a family. The children know they are expected at our home and rarely disappoint us. This year, we will feed twenty.

Don and I discuss the menu. He chooses the meat, since he is the chef for the evening. Each of our four children agrees to bring a side dish that goes well with the main course. I prepare the grocery list and make my way to the stores to shop for the ingredients needed for the meal. Upon my return, I begin the preparation for tomorrow’s feast and spend the remainder of the day in the kitchen.

As I climb into bed, a child-like excitement threatens to keep me awake. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and my family will be together.

The Magic of Christmas JOY to be continued tomorrow…….     

Everyone has experienced birth—we’re here, right? I have to admit, being born is not something I recall. Yet throughout my lifetime, I have often come face-to-face with beginnings.

One birth that comes to mind is my son’s entrance into the world. Imagine my JOY when the pain hit its highest threshold and a little person was born. The miraculous love of my life nestled in my arms, and I started life anew. Optimistic in my role as a mother, I accepted the good and bad—happy and sad. Throughout the years, my children and grandchildren have left me both empowered and powerless. Yet their existence continues to fill my heart with JOY.

As I’ve gotten older, I have developed an appreciation for the new life around me. For instance, I have the best gardener in the world. My husband, bless his heart, harvested seeds from an alstroemeria plant and deposited them in the flower box under the bay window of our home. He patted dirt on top of the seeds with his bare hands, sprinkled the dirt with water, and waited for the birth of his floral tapestry. Before long, the tiny sprouts turned into plants. And before I knew it, the area under the bay window was a myriad of color.

I am a passionate quilter. Each quilt I create goes through the process of birth. I select a variety of interesting material, some flamboyant—some simple. I cut the fabric into shapes, and with careful precision, sew the pieces together to form a brand new creation, a masterpiece of imagery.

I have watched kittens and dogs become a part of the world, right here in my home. Somehow, we always manage to keep one of the little guys. I have gazed at mountains that appeared millions of years ago when they erupted from the earth. The cool water of lakes, derived from glaciers, snowy mountain tops, and cleansing rain, has given me pleasure when I waded through the silky wetness or watched the birds dip into its vastness. Who doesn’t enJOY a sunrise, as daybreak springs forth a new day; one filled with hope, choices, and decisions? Creations continue to emerge in our world. Birth happens all around us.

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Our spirits can also experience a rebirth. One of the most powerful births we encounter is one of acceptance. As we begin our journey of acceptance, it might be difficult at times. But, as we travel through the process, parts of us are reborn. While we tour a path of happiness, stumbling blocks may fall in front of us and disturb our JOY. The forty hours we give to our job pays the bills and fills a void. Then one day, out of the blue, we’re called into the boss’ office and given a pink slip. We say goodbye to a friend at the local coffee shop, and he or she never makes it home. The biopsy results show malignancy. We realize we’re not invincible.

My discovery during the grieving process, regardless of the reason for the sorrow, is that I long for a rebirth of my spirit. Powerless in the moment, I look for a safe way out of my anguish. Desperate for a positive future, I cry out to anyone who will listen. And then it hits me; I cannot change what has happened. I cannot go back and take a different path. The road lies behind me, but in front of me, I can see the yellow-brick-road of promises.

There are ways to renew my JOY when everything around me screams powerless. To become powerful, I must surrender my grief and accept what I cannot change. I pray for guidance and help from my God. Even when I empower myself for a few minutes at a time, I am on the right path. And I’ll move faster through the journey if I snatch a little more optimism each day. I will hurdle over the obstacle to renewed peace and a JOYful spirit. I will accept the changes of today and move on with my life.

My JOYful spirit returns in the morning with the birth of a new day. God’s promise of peace and tranquility prevails, and the birth of my JOY is welcomed. I am amazed.

Be blessed with JOY, my friend, as you travel the yellow-brick-roads that lie ahead.

Our view of Mt. McKinley – August 2014

Three months in Canada and Alaska gave me a summer of tranquility. From the moment my eyes popped open in the morning until I laid my head down on the pillow each quiet, peaceful night, I had a newfound experience of the magnificent world we live in. Filled with the delight of God’s vast and glorious creations, every day brought excitement and JOY. Not once did I rush to get somewhere. I was on God’s clock in His world.

Rain or shine, the air’s fragrance was a comfort to my lungs. The drizzly days left vivid greenery and vibrant wild flowers in my path. An unexpected bright, sunny day brought out Mt. McKinley in all its majesty. Never a day ended without splendid views, sounds of nature, fresh air, and golden silence. JOY filled my being.

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My four-month summer trip in the RV is behind me now. I am knee-deep in unpacking the motor home and housework, in my home and RV. Routine doctor’s appointments, coffee dates, and time with my family seem to fill my calendar. How I long for the relaxation and contentment of my blessed travels.

I had promised myself that today would be the day I would finally unwind, read, and appreciate my home. But instead, I jumped out of bed at an ungodly hour, threw on the first outfit I found, bypassed the coffee pot, and dashed out the door so I wouldn’t be late for my appointment with my favorite phlebotomist.

Complete with heavy morning traffic, the thirty-minute drive awaited me. I turned on my favorite radio station and inspirational tunes filled my ears. Every song pulled me a little further away from the frenzy of the morning. Each tune brought me closer to the reality that we live in a perfectly and wonderfully made world. I caught glimpses of beauty everywhere I gazed. In gratitude, I surrendered to prayer. By the time I reached my appointment, I was at peace with the world.

I parked the car and contemplated the half-hour trip. Amazed at the turn my morning had taken, I smiled in wonder. My day turned around when I made the choice to live JOYfully, instead of submitting to the mayhem of another hectic day.

Every last one of us makes daily choices. Some of our decisions are positive, but others are not as noteworthy. This morning, however, I was gently reminded that my reaction to life is strictly my choice. In reality, my only option was, and is, to choose JOY now, as life is too short for the alternative.

You too can capture the gladness of the day. There is grandeur around you, regardless of how your morning began. Choose JOY and the world will enlighten you with adventures you never imagined.

Be blessed with JOY, my friend.