It's not easy to launch back into another week of blogging about mundane goings-on when life has come to a crashing halt for so many grieving families. Many online newspapers, magazines and even other bloggers have shared some profound thoughts, and I have nothing to add that hasn't already been said. I'll simply share a few reflections.
This past weekend, on the heels of another national tragedy, one of my oldest and dearest friends brought her family up to visit mine. The timing couldn't have been better. We spoke very little of what was happening in Connecticut. We didn't need to.
Our children, thrilled to be in each others company again, were buzzing around, chasing each other, clambering into each others laps and onto each others backs. They made movies together, curled up together in bed reading, ran races in the backyard, and built the little gingerbread house you see in these pictures.
They saw not one headline, not one news story, not one frightening alert.
They had the time, energy, and gift to simply be children.
As my heart breaks for the many families who were robbed of this precious gift during this season of love, joy, and peace, I am holding a space in my heart daily, even hourly, to slow down, hug my children, enjoy the holidays.
Fortunately, my kids won't remember this particular Christmas season as being different from any other year. But I hope I do.
I hope I can continue from this year forward to be more patient, more loving, more joyful, more present. For what my children need are not more gifts under the tree, even hand-knit, lovingly-made ones, they need a family encircling them with security, peace, and love.