The week of Christmas

and my heart is torn and aching a little.

Oh – it’s easy to say we don’t really celebrate Christmas. We prefer a simple Christmas. We like to keep it quiet. We realize it’s not really Christ’s Birthday.

But.

We also live in America. Next to people with double incomes and credit accounts. With commercials on TV and Movies and TV Shows with dozens of presents under the tree.

Its hard to wrap joy. Wrap Bird Watching Every Day. Wrap Bills that are paid. Wrap Rent that is current. Wrap frozen chicken in the freezer, or the Gas for the Heater or the Car. Hard to wrap a checking account that is in the Black – even if by only a few dollars.

We were gifted with cards from church – a gift from a grandmother – and a gift from my parents this year. In my book – we will have a small beautiful celebration this week. There will not be “without”.

But I have a little boy. Who has been exposed for the last 4 days to a world he has never seen. Even in Bend. Where not only is money no object – but the desire for it to be shown is bold. At least in Bend, everyone seemed to hide the money that was paying the mortgages with grungy SUV’s and Snow Board Pants.

I have a little boy with a big heart. Who wants to give. Who has people on his prayer list that have real needs. Power Turned Off. Child Lost in Death. Children without food. And he sees a mother purchase $75.00 earrings for a 6 year old daughter. He sees the extravagance of a 20+foot tree laden with presents for two small children. And he wants to give. His heart hurts. He calls me with a weak small sobbing voice. We cry together on the phone. He will be home Lord Willing in my arms in the morning at 8.

The idea and reality of a simple Christmas is marvelous. I wouldn’t want anything different. If we were laden with abunance in a savings account – I wouldn’t want to load the bottom of the tree with plastic trinkets.

My heart is broken – because my son’s heart is broken. He has seen the World. He has seen self indulgence. How he never seemed to be exposed to it in Bend I’ll never know.  I’ve asked my other son tonight how he handled it in Bend.  He said he was just glad he got to play with all the toys of his friends. He felt co-ownership with his best friend’s abundance.

Hubby came home from work while I was trying to type this out. I got to cry it out with him. There isn’t anything to sort out – we live a very blessed life – just an almost cashless one.

Every day I wake up, watch the Blue Herons dance with the White Egrets over the lake and sip my coffee with my warm feet and feel so everlasting thankful for being in this home, and pray for those around the world – waking to pain and suffering. So please hear my heart. It just hurts. Cause my son’s hurts. Tomorrow morning could not come soon enough.