Unexpected

Well, it is Christmas Eve, 2020.

To say it's been quite a year for the world is an understatement. Loads of feelings.

But what I did not expect to feel, this Christmas Eve of all Christmas Eves, is peace. I suppose it's a forced peace, in a way. With Covid and it's accompanying quarantines, there has not been the usual mad dash of parties, get togethers, concert-going, or .... well, anything. Lots to enjoy online, and I realize I'm one of the fortunate few who does well with online intereactions.

But it's peace, nonetheless. And the biggest peace has to do with our oldest son. Going through letting go of what happened to him all over again earlier in the year was not pleasant. I was anything but peaceful.

I was angry. I was frustrated. I wanted justice. (I still do, on occasion.) I wanted our boy back.

I realized I was letting what happened to him destroy me. And I would not give --- that victory.

So I let go. And quarantined.

Thanksgiving came. Only grandma was able to be with us, and between the two of us, we cooked up a storm. Which allowed me to take leftovers to my youngest. My youngest, who has such concern for his father that we can only see him outside, masks on, physically distanced six feet. I'll take it, even when it's below 30 degrees outside.

And now, it's Christmas Eve. Yes, I've thought of my oldest much. But today, while out running errands, I decided to be cheerful. Not in a forced way, but in a 'this is what the world needs' way. And everyone was being cheerful. And helpful. And nice.

Chris would like that.

So on this quiet Christmas Eve, I'll think on that sweet little baby born to save us all. Born to comfort, and heal, and gather. Bornt to redeem. My son is fine. I will, be, too.