Worth a Thousand

Joy to the World!  It's Christmas time. 
Snow, lights, trees, candy, decorative cookies, carols, red and green, nativity, fat men in felt suits, family picture time;  must mean it's Christmas time. 
So where's my smile?

I can't fake it.  I'm not sad, but the joy that's shown on every one's faces is not showing on mine. 
Everyone has their holiday traditions.  Something that we pass down to our children so to establish with them a heritage, a history, a memory. 
I like my family now.  My kids are the sweetest and the best.  My husband is one of a kind.  I thought myself better than him when we met, but I was sorely wrong.  I see that now.  God has blessed me with this new family.  I would give my life for them.  I don't deserve any of them.

This morning I had the pleasure of making homemade chocolate truffles with a long time friend of mine.  Rachel and I don't see eye to eye on every subject; we've had our moments of heated debate, but we have a mutual pursuit of truth that keeps us together.  That and we love CHOCOLATE!   Truffles are not hard to make but they are extremely messy.  I must have washed my hands close to 8 or 9 times in less than half an hour.  Every truffle has to be hand rolled into a "ball-like" shape, and as the cooled chocolate melts in your hand (not in your mouth) it gets soft and leaves a pudding like mess behind.   Delicious as they are when they are finished, while you are in the thick of the process, you might begin to wonder, "Is this even worth it?"
When we were all done Rachel let me be the designated taster.  And oh baby, is it ever!

My support team from my Thursday meetings say that I shouldn't push myself so hard; "It's a process".  I'm in the thick of it now.  And I've started to look at my place in the world.  More specifically, my place in my family.  Inside a picture of smiling faces, my smile is absent.  A friend reminded me recently that a smile is worth a thousand words.   What is mine saying?  Picture time scares me now.  I didn't used to feel like this.  And I'm thinking, "This 'process' sucks".  I need to live my life now!  I don't have time for all this drama inside. 

Traditionally, my Mother always tried her hardest to make Christmas Eve a special evening.  Traditionally, it always fell flat because of Dad's attitude about it.  He wanted her to try, but he didn't want to try.  All he had to do was show up.  All he had to do was sit and enjoy all her efforts.  All he had to do was smile. 

My Dad has a process going on too.  It's been going on for over 25 years.  Now it's sort of stuck on rinse and repeat.  His father hurt him emotionally, and he's felt tormented by those memories ever since.   He's sought counseling.  He's sought to drown it with medication.  All his anger and discontentment with his job, himself, and his family was all part of that process.  He was so busy internalizing that no one that was around him understood what was going on.  My grandparents have both passed on now...and when I hear my Dad is having heart problems I wish he would just die too.  I figure my problems, my bad memories, and all that stuff that took away my sweet child-like smile, will just go down with him to the grave.
But my Dad still does not smile...

I always run away from "tradition" because of him.  I don't want to become a part of that family abuse statistic.  I'm a fighter and I refuse to let his destiny be my own.  I'm in a process, and my smile is a fake one sometimes; but I will never stop trying.
My new family tradition is to laugh, is to play, is to not let the stress of money and relationships (both past and present) take me away from those surrounding me that sincerely love and care.  Those little hands that reach out to me to hold them.  Those little ears that crave to listen to their night time stories.
And for my sweetest, who only wishes for my love and undivided affection, I will learn to live in the here and now.    For my God, I will try even harder to shove away my demons that spread disbelief, so to remember all that He had done and is doing now.  
 As for the pictures...let the smile find itself.  I'm no good at faking.

Christmas is not about keeping up with the Jones'.  It's about the beginning of an end.  It's about an answered prayer.  It's about how love came down from Heaven to grow up surrounded by hate.  That night, a new tradition was born.  And it is all part of a process.  (Isaiah 9:1-7)