A Gift for Mom! 🤍

She takes a deep breath as she slowly creaks her way down to the dark, dusty, cobwebby basement to pull out those tubs and haul them to the living room. The tubs, which are filled to the brim with lights, ornaments, stars, candles, greenery, tinsel, and more. Today is the day it all begins. From decorating to cookie baking to Christmas card writing to craft making to parties to get togethers to shopping to wrapping to bows to gifts upon gifts upon gifts. It will be 26 days till it is all over, and perhaps the Advent calendar that she hangs readily on the kitchen wall is really counting down the days to THAT. It’s all relevant . . . right?

Oh dear, Mama. What a month it will be. But dear Mama, do we remember? Do we remember what it used to be like?

Now it may be a chore to find the tubs in the back of the dusty and dark storage closet, hauling them up to the living room, and trying to piece together the décor in order to make it look somewhat presentable.

But do we remember what it used to be like? It was the excitement of glitter and green and red. It was the joy of lights and flickering candles. It was the act of putting the ornaments on just so and getting Daddy to lift you up to put the star on the top.

Now it may be another task on the list of “to-do”s–bake cookies, write cards, make Christmas crafts.

But do we remember what it used to be like? It was the laughter of baking together, covering each other in flour, making favorite shapes in the dough, and designing with sprinkles and icing. It was the pride in creating your own craft for more Christmas décor or a gift for Grandma. It was the beauty of making something to give and seeing the joy on the recievers’ faces.

Now, it may be more money. Just more and more money.

But do we remember what it used to be like? It was the thrill of finding that perfect gift for that aunt or that grandpa or that friend. It was the fun of picking out a new shiny ornament or a yummy dessert to bring to the big extended family Christmas. It was the happiness in opening a gift meant just for you from your Mommy and Daddy who love you so.

Now, it may be another get-together, just another outing to get ready for. Another place to brave the snowy streets to get to. 

But do we remember what it used to be like? It was the sweetness of putting on your favorite red Christmas dress, showing Daddy while you twirled around. It was getting your hair curled and finding the black “church shoes.” It was feeling the excitement fill you as you headed off to the family gathering and reunited with your favorite cousins. It was about being in a room filled with laughter and joy and, most of all, love.

Yes, love.

Oh dear Mama, do we forget? Do we forget what it is all about? Our little selves knew it so well and our own little ones still do. It is not meant to be a drag or a duty or another holiday to get through, yet is that how we are choosing to view it?

Oh yes, we are the ones who bring it all together aren’t we? Without us would there BE any decorations or Christmas cards or baking? Dinner would probably be ordered pizza and many gifts may either be forgotten or left unwrapped. We bring a lot of the holiday to the table, and in truth, that can be utterly exhausting and overwhelming.

But what about the joy that it can be? WE are the ones who get to bring the traditions and the beauty of Christmas alive in our homes. WE are the ones who get to carry on what our mamas did for us. Most of all, WE are the ones who get to show our children the true, the very true, meaning behind it all.

Can we do that when we are found “just getting through” til the 26th day? Maybe. But maybe not well.

She blows the dust off the lid of the tub. She opens it up and the first thing she sees is the star. The star that every household has in one way or another. The star that finishes off the tree and glitters day and night. The star that the little one places on top with her daddy lifting her up. A tear rolls down her cheek as she remembers why. She remembers why this work, why this trouble. All this work to remember one thing and make sure her kids remember it, too. She feels a spark light in her. She takes the star and places it on her mantle, ready for the topping of the tree when it was time. She turns on ‘For Unto Us a Child is Born’ and her steps become lighter. As she hums, she begins to feel the true joy of Christmas fill her soul, just as if she was little once again.

“They went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.” Matt. 2: 9-11

 

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Esther Vandersluis

Esther is a Canadian writing from Hamilton, Ontario, living in a sea of pink as a girl mom to three. Find her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/beautifulalarm) where you will find writing for stay-at-home moms, moms with littles, sleep-deprived moms, moms feeding babies, and babies with failure to thrive, all under the umbrella of faith in Jesus Christ.

I Lost My Sight at 16—But It Wasn’t the End of My Vision

In: Faith
Cross and sunset

After my father shot me, I lay in a hospital bed, and my world went dark. I was 16 years old. The injury left me completely blind. But the darkness didn’t stop there. As my physical sight disappeared, something else came into focus—the depth of the wounds I had carried long before that moment, wounds I had never fully allowed myself to see. For years, I had learned how to survive without asking too many questions. I had learned how to minimize what hurt, how to explain things away, how to keep moving forward as if everything were normal. But...

Keep Reading

Ministry Starts Inside Your Own Four Walls

In: Faith
Family around a table

When people hear the word ministry, they often think of missionaries, or the pastor who preaches every Sunday, but in our home, ministry belongs to all of us—even our kids. Growing up, I didn’t think of myself as a ministry kid. Still, when my dad packed our old Astro for the summer and we all piled in, we were on mission. Each kid had a part to play in my dad’s evangelical magic shows (yes, you read that right!). My brother would juggle, my older sister sang, my middle sister flipped the projector slides that shone pictures of Jesus on...

Keep Reading

These Holy Small Things

In: Faith, Motherhood
Children sewing at machine

My 8-year-old-daughter has recently taken up sewing, to my simultaneous delight and chagrin. My delight because I too love sewing; my chagrin because her enthusiasm often outpaces my own abilities, namely, in the undertaking of tedious projects with no pattern. Take, for example, the cloth doll diaper we designed and stitched up together. Granted, the design was fairly basic to draw up and scale. But the minuscule nature of the work, both for my hands and head, was enough to throw me into existential questioning. It was one of those moments when you wonder how the sum of your life...

Keep Reading

Life Lessons from My Grown Children

In: Faith, Motherhood
Two women's hands on teacups

“Don’t limit a child to your own learning, for he was born in another time.” – Rabindranath Tagore Quietly communing with a loved one in the early morning hours is such an intimate and precious time. Visiting with one’s grown child when all is dark and still is one of life’s purest pleasures. I remember the conversation clearly. My daughter’s husband, small children, and father were all asleep as we whispered and chatted. She and I are both fidgeters by nature, unable to be still for long. This inner restlessness must be remedied, and we are compelled by biology to...

Keep Reading

My Prayer Is Simple Now: “I Believe; Help My Unbelief.”

In: Faith
Woman sitting by water

I have spent most of my life in faith. Not circling it or analyzing it from a distance, but inside it—learning its language before I even realized I was learning it, shaping myself around it in ways that felt as natural as breathing. I was raised in Christian Science, which is a very particular kind of faith. It’s not really about “believing” in the way most people think. It’s about understanding. Aligning your thoughts with what is ultimately true about God and reality. If you can understand rightly, you can be well. If you can see clearly, healing follows. So...

Keep Reading

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

In: Faith, Living
Woman looking over canyon

Insecurity is something we all carry in one form or another. For me, it has probably always looked confident and outgoing from the outside. But internally, it can feel heavy, complicated, and exhausting at times. And when someone comes along whose behavior reinforces those insecurities, it amplifies what was already there. There was someone I had hoped to genuinely connect with, but it was clear from the start that the feeling wasn’t mutual. From the beginning, their wall was up. No matter how kind I tried to be or how carefully I showed up, it never came down. Their distance...

Keep Reading

Lord, Give Me Faith Like Hannah

In: Faith
Woman walking in field with hand in wheat

Hannah knew what it was like to feel forgotten. She often clutched her empty womb and thought Surely the Lord has forgotten me.  She knew the bitter sting of feeling isolated and alone. She knew the anguish of praying day after day after day and seeing no fruit, not even a bud, from her faithfulness. Hannah knew what it was like to feel like the weight of the world was on her, and her hope may have dwindled. Even those around her did not offer encouragement. Quite the opposite—they did their best to sow seeds of discouragement. Yet Hannah pressed...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

In: Faith, Motherhood
Family smiling in posed photo

My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...

Keep Reading

What If I Don’t Hear God’s Voice?

In: Faith
Woman with folded hands looking up

There have been many times over the years when I’ve heard others share stories of how the Lord spoke to them or gave them a sign. Seashells scattered along a sandy beach, numbered to represent how many children they would have. A quiet walk in the park, followed by a clear sense that another little one was coming. What a blessing, I think, when I hear and read their stories. I often wonder how much more faith they must have than I do—to know with such certainty that what they heard was truly God speaking. I listen, I smile, and...

Keep Reading