"Warning label? Yes, WARNING: prepare to be blessed."

It has been a difficult week. On Tuesday, I spent the work day preparing for Wednesday, as is usual. What was unusual was that Wednesday was December 22nd. I kept typing and seeing that date EVERYWHERE. It would have been the eighth anniversary for me and big Blake, and at first, though wistful about it, I wasn't overly bothered. Then I went to Blake's school Christmas program.

As I watched his father's MiniMe climb up on stage and wait to start singing, my eyes started to leak and I just wanted to talk to big Blake and tell him what he's missing out on. I looked at our son and wept for what both father and son do not know about the other. I believe that those who have died in Christ have some awareness of what's going on here, but I do not believe that big Blake is always with me. Actually, that would be creepy. Given the choice between face-time with the God of the universe and hover-time with me... well, it isn't really much of a choice at all.

Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her King;
let every heart prepare Him room and Heaven and nature sing!

I pondered about it all day. He's missing out on so much. Does he know? Will he ever really get to fill in those blanks when we're all together in glory? And December 22nd. December 22nd. December 22nd.

I read this, wondering if anyone had posted anything since 2005. They had not. I kept catching myself crying quietly, being largely worthless at the job and hoping my office mate assumed I had a sniffly cold. I picked up Blake and told him how proud both his dads must be of him, but that sadly neither was able to attend the program, and I choked up and couldn't quite get it all out.

"Do you just think I cry all the time, Blake?"
"Yeah."
"I DO NOT!"

Rob got home and let me sob all over him, squeezing my hand in understanding as I tried to explain this particular sorrow. My grief is taking new shape with a new man in my life. I do not miss big Blake so much for myself now - we would be strangers to each other at this point - I grieve for our boy and for the layers of complicated family tugs that I feel all the time, but especially keenly at Christmas.

Joy to the earth, the Savior reigns! Let men their songs employ;
while fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains repeat the sounding joy!

My friends and family poured out love upon me via the magical medium of Facebook. I had posted about my aching heart and expressed gratitude for my RobRob for taking on all of this: this woman whose life should have come with a warning label. The title of this post comes from one friend's reply, which took me by surprise, for I rarely feel like a blessing to others... which is good! It's not about me.

He rules the world with truth and grace and makes the nations prove
the glories of His righteousness and wonders of His love!

The next day contained a particular piece of bad news that I am not at liberty to share, but it did have the effect of co-opting my emotion on Tuesday in a wholly new direction. I decided Christmas had been ruined.

And yet... I love Christmas. I think I always have, but it holds so many meanings for me in so many areas of my life that I love it more each year. And each year it seems I am reminded that it is a minefield for me (and truthfully, for many). The blessings, however, will always outweigh the aches.

No more let sin and sorrow grow, nor thorns infest the ground.
He comes to make His blessings flow far as the curse is found!

We had family pictures taken hours after I decided upon holiday ruination. These are my two favorites, and Christmas day itself was delightful. I am also seeing God work real miracles out in my heart, and the holiday was by no means ruined. It wasn't even marred.

Our Christmas card, which, by the time I send it out, will be more of a Valentine. And, just as I thought last year, "It can only get better from here."