So I had made a sort of peace with a 2020 Christmas.
Not being with my dad. Not traveling to see my grandson. My daughter working the holiday, saving folks from Covid and themselves.
Keeping things small and as safe as possible.
The three of us at home had thought up some fun culinary treats and planned on munching in front of a roaring fire.
And then there was a change of plans.
I woke up on Christmas Eve to a massive lower GI bleed and I knew what that meant: a trip to the ER and transfer to hospital. Yippee!
Not at all how I was planning to spend Christmas.
But my scale of awful is so much worse than disappointment and I’m thankful for modern medicine that ensures I can recover.
I escaped needing a transfusion by a small margin.
I’m tired from too little sleep, too few red blood cells and very little food but I am home after just 48 hours!!!
My tree will stay up and presents wrapped until schedules permit the limited family gathering we had hoped for earlier.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this Valley it’s that only death can’t be undone.
In the meantime I’m getting used to letting others do most of the chores around here and trying to occupy myself with lap projects as my body rebuilds.
This Christmas was hard on a lot of hearts.
And New Year’s is around the corner, reminding us that even when we want to, we can’t stop the earth from turning and time marching on.
I pray that if you, like me, were forced to face additional challenges this season you feel the Father’s loving arms around you and that you find the strength to hold onto hope.