Christmas looks a little different this year.
There's still shopping and wrapping, baking and decorating.
But in the middle of all the carols and chocolates our hearts are on pause.
This Christmas, our hearts are in a hospital room. We're clinging to a life we love yet celebrate the homecoming she is about to receive.
This Christmas as the cookies get sprinkled and the dough gets cut I'm trying not to think about the stockings we may not pass out, the ones from her, with an orange in the toe.
As we wrap and tape we're answering texts and calls about her heart rate and oxygen levels.
This Christmas we're watching Heaven come closer as we go as far as we can towards it alongside her.
This Christmas Heaven is becoming a frequent topic as we picture that incredible moment of her being eternally home, seeing grand babies and great-grand babies never held on this earth but will soon be in their Mamaw's arms.
This Christmas is a heart full of tidings of comfort and joy. For God is good.
I've seen how a body fails, but the spirit thrives. And I've seen the Body thrive as members ache.
The hands and feet of Christ are serving lunches, making calls, sitting up long hours, taking over shifts, praying, visiting, loving, serving.
This Christmas has some in a hospital room, some working long hours, some traveling back and forth, and some ministering to our Grandpa, but it has us all on our knees.
The beauty of death is that it draws everyone in, and if you have the hope of life given freely in Christ, it has the beauty of drawing everyone up.
No hopelessness, no darkness, no brokenness. A celebration of a life we cherish amidst stockings and wrapping paper.
This Christmas we celebrate Heaven coming to Earth, while a bit of our hearts is going to Heaven.