Finding joy while eating an elephant

I haven’t written anything new in nearly two weeks.

It’s not that I don’t want to. But I’m aware that many of my posts tend to be emotional – and Christmas isn’t the time to make others sad. It’s the time for joy.

So, for the past 10 days or so I’ve been working on finding my joy this Christmas.

It hasn’t been easy.

I’m usually one of “them”. Those people who shop in August and have decorations in every corner of the house. I love everything about the season – even down to the madness at the mall on December 23rd.

One of my favourite memories is of being in the junior choir and attending the candlelight service. I can remember how everything seemed magical by candlelight as if God were really listening to us sing.

This Christmas there weren’t any church services. To be honest – there haven’t been any for a long time. Katie doesn’t abide crowds very well and explaining to a group of strangers why she’s whooping and screaming isn’t my favourite pastime.

I try to make sure that the kids hear the nativity story every Christmas Eve. I remember to sing the hymns as well as the Santa carols. But this Christmas I longed for the white church on West Street, nearly as much as I longed for my husband.

I wanted to see the red carpet dusted with sprinkles from the angels’ wings. I wanted to see the Advent Candles lit at the front. I wanted to see the tree lit at the front, hear the pipe organ and hear the King James Version of the First Night.

On top of missing my husband, I’m homesick.

Funny – when you think that I’ve lived here for nearly eight years without one twinge of homesickness. I think Rick is my shield against the longing for where we grew up.

O – I’m sure I’ve built up a tough skin of my own. But its only so long one can scrape a rhinoceros before you reach the tender under skin. And the raw emotions of losing nine soldiers in Afghanistan this month as well as spending the holidays alone have all but removed my armour.

He called me on Christmas day, a full 15 minutes on the phone and another full hour online. I couldn’t have asked for a better present.

I know he senses my sadness. I know he feels my worry. I try to hide it. But my emotions have always danced across my face and although I may be able to hide it on the phone. He sees me online and knows that something isn’t right.

I went through the motions. I stuffed stockings, made big meals, the whole nine yards.
But I didn’t feel Christmas.

And now that it’s past I’m sorry for it.

Next year, Rick says, will be our best Christmas yet. A house full of love and laughter, children and merriment – and maybe even that trip to the white church.

My joy will be in the future. I look forward to feeling it. And in the meantime I’m eating this elephant.

Day 129.