Christmas Eve has come and gone. Christmas day has followed along the same path, and even though I know it cannot remain Christmas forever, I cannot help but be sad it is over for this year.

This Christmas came with great anticipation for our family. We celebrated for over a month. Using it as an excuse to think about anything but the fact that I was badly injured, and unable to do so much of what I always do. We opened our envelopes diligently each night, (well, most of them), watched the Christmas videos together, made the cookies, listened to the songs, read the books, took the photos, picked out the perfect Christmas tree; then decorated it as a family, attended holiday plays, and celebrations.

We were able for the first time in many years, and for the first time in most of our sons lives to do things which were impossible before, impossible because there has always been a small baby on Christmas in our home. We have had nine Christmases as husband and wife and only our first was spent without a baby. Alex arrived only 2 months after our first Christmas together, and we have hit the ground running as parents.

This year Richard and I were well aware that this would be our last Christmas with a baby in the house. Abe will be 18-months-old tomorrow, and by next year he will resemble a small boy more than an infant. So without ever verbalizing it to the other, Richard and I both dug deep to make Christmas 2009 extra special even if crutches, pain, stress, and sleep deprivation were large factors in the daily equation. Things in our house never go as planned, and this Christmas would probably have looked tragic to the outside world. It is never done neatly, or quietly at our house. There is always a lot of chaos. Our Christmases are not tied up in pretty bows, but are done with a whole lot of love and latitude.

I am proud of us for sticking it out this year. We had some bad days in December, but for the most part I think we will look back on this month, of this year, as a magical one. One in which my sons were able to see the true nature of God’s love played out in front of them as their father gently cared for their hurting mother. One in which my boys witnessed their proud mother forced into letting go of her grasp on what she has always controlled and allow others to step in and help her. They have seen the beauty of the body of Christ working together in harmony as neighbors, friends, and family have taken care of our family. They have seen the values of patience and perseverance.

The boys prayed almost nightly that their mommy would walk on Christmas day. That did not happen. But I have to believe that the Lord is working an even better Christmas miracle in the hearts of their mother and themselves. As we see not our will, but His be done. In not our way, but His! If our family comes out of this holiday season internalizing this scriptural truth, then it will have been a miraculous Christmas in the purest sense of the term. That miracle promises to have more of a lasting impact than any of our parental efforts toward a memorable Christmas thus far!