out of the fog and into the light

I'm feeling stunned to look back and see that my "baby fog" post was almost 4 months ago. In some ways it feels like I just wrote that, but in lots and lots of ways it feels like a lifetime ago. I am finally starting to come out of my baby fog. I am back to work and back to life. I've been spending big amounts of time processing everything that has happened to me over these past several months. I'm just starting to piece it all together.

The main thing on my mind right now is Christmas. I've been listening to Christmas music for the past couple of weeks and I'm trying to really listen - not just sing along with the lyrics I've known all of my life. There are some pretty powerful words in those songs. I've never been a huge fan of "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear" until I stopped and listened to these words:

"O ye beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow;
Look now, for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
Oh rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled;
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world:
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing."

Maybe I am so moved by this because of the old saying about a baby who smiles in his sleep is listening to singing angels. But those words transfix me as I think about them. Life is busy for me now with two kids, a full time job, christmas traditions to make happen and special and fun, and a husband to walk beside. I don't have much time or energy to rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing. But something lightens in my heart to think of peaceful wings unfurled singing over our sad and lonely plains, floating above our weary world.

And that form who is bending low, toiling along the climbing way, that is me! Last night I proclaimed I was giving up - I told Jamie I wasn't putting up any decorations this year. I may be out of the fog but I'm sort of into a funk. Then Jamie reminded me that I feel this way every year as I subconsciously grieve for my mother. And then my dear, wise husband pointed out that the reason this is so hard for me every year is because I have such happy memories because of the efforts she made to make it so special for me. And I have two fantastic children who deserve to get to have special, delightful memories of Christmas with their family too. How did I miss that part? How do I get so focused on myself that I could miss something so big?

Oh Lord, this Christmas, may I come out of my fog, out of my funk and into the light of your wonderous star. And even if I find myself on the sad and lonely plains, may I take the time to stand in the light of Your star. Instead of my own Babel sounds, may I be able to focus on hearing Your blessed angels sing.

Next on the playlist is Feliz Navidad. I'll let you know if I get anything so touching out of it. And just in case I don't make it back for another post in time, Merry Christmas.