Presents

It's that time of the year.  The time when Christmas and all of the trimmings comes to the forefront of my mind.  Last week I had started to compose an email to say that instead of gifts for my boys this year, I'd love for a sentence or two about them and for them to be mailed to them in the family Christmas card.  I would then include these phrases in their books.

Their books are simple exercise books that I picked up in the stationary section.  I had started the books as I began to recover from the pulmonary emboli.  Each boy has one;  these books are a different kind of scrapbook: it's a combination of memories, hopes, prayers, things they've said that make them (or me) laugh and photos from little and big life events. Today, I read this blog about presents.  And this is the highlight that I loved the most:

"This is what I would like for my boys to grow up with. Not mountains of toys (which are growing bigger by the minute) but the experiences and close relationships with the people in their lives that matter most.

I always think about the what if's. What if something happened to me? What if something happened to their dad? They've built strong bonds with some family members, but others are only seen on occasion and only for short periods of time. 

Building relationships now with these family members and friends will only benefit them in the long run if something were to ever happen to us.

These are the things I think about, people. Deep, I know."

Things have been so busy with family life that I've not thought much about my health.  However, in this same week, I've had the blessing of catching up with an amazing friend who I hadn't seen since the twins' birth (and yet we picked up as though we had seen each other yesterday - I am so grateful for friends like this!) and we talked about a hundred things including my health journey.  I talked with another health professional I saw this past summer who was inquiring about how things were progressing; and it is a relief-joy-blessing to be able to report back that I feel fine - how much things have improved.  My condition which once had all-but-consumed my scope of life now has been reduced to the minor inconvenience of having bloodwork done every month, the daily warfarin, the awareness of (rather than fear of) dietary choices and blood clot information.

My life these days has different kinds of hard.  In the midst of motherhood, not much beyond the trenches of toddlerhood, I find the chaos, noise, messyness and intensity of a household of boys often threaten to overwhelm.  Yes, sometimes it's being overwhelmed with joy, but honestly, and more often, it's the threat of being overwhelmed by the numerous demands on my time, energy, and self.

I know that this does not apply to all, but it has been my experience: in some ways, facing a major life event is more manageable than a series of daily life challenges.

I was reminded in an amazing sermon that spiritual maturity happens as life gets progressively more difficult.  This is encouraging.  It directed me to go back to Hebrews 12:2 - this was something I needed [you can watch the message here].  And although things are incredibly good in many areas, in other ways, life is still getting progressively more difficult.  I can only hope that I am becoming progressively more mature.

Therefore, I can't help but be one of many who claim this song as my own.  I can't help but be thankful.  I can't help but count each day and so many moments as presents.  Gifts.  Blessings.  

For now I am enjoying my amazingly good health, some great INR results (2.0 this past weekend - woo hoo!), a start at a new chapter of running (I started my 5km clinic with the Running Room on Monday), my beautiful though boisterous (boysterous?) family, living out life in the moment and counting my blessings every day.