When Christmas Isn't Merry

"Be still and know that I am God."

-Psalm 46:10 

Every even year since 2011 I have woken up on Christmas morning alone, the house quiet. No expected patter of excited young feet or smiles that brighten when they see a tree bedecked with gifts and stocking full of goodies. Some of the things that bring a mother's heart greatest joy have been stripped from me when my husband decided he wanted out of our marriage. I am no longer bitter but the sadness of being away from my kids on this most special day never goes away. Weeks ahead of Christmas, I psyche myself up (and try to help the kids as well) to the fact that our 'Christmas' will still exist, only on a different day. All of them, at one point or another, will ask (if not beg) to be able to be home for Christmas. "We can go to Dad's in the evening," they try to bargain. I do my best to be positive and encouraging, but inward I am thinking the same thing.

By the grace of God, I am able to be strong in front of them, but every year, no matter how strong I feel, the floodgates open as soon as I drop them off. And then they are only a word, a look of understanding, a question away from letting loose again. Today is Christmas Eve. I have been crying on and off all day. I have surrounded myself with people I love, family and friends, but in every quiet moment...tears fall.

I know Christmas is a season. It isn't about one day or stockings full of gifts, it isn't about what we get or even who we are with. It's about Christ. That is what gets me through. Today I had the honor to  vacuum our church to help prepare it for Midnight Mass. I imagined I was sweeping the stable, tidying up to prepare the lowly place for the newborn King.

Tonight I get to pick up my kids and bring them to Mass with me. I get to receive Our Lord in the Holy Eucharist with them by my side. This is Christmas to them, and to me. Tonight my heart will be full as I whisper "Merry Christmas" to my kids as the bell tolls for Mass to begin. Tonight for a few hours, joy will be full. I will focus on the now, and be happy.....

...and then I will drop them back off at their dad's in the middle of the night, and cry the whole way home.

In 2012 I wasn't able to have my kids even at Mass, these five candles were for them.