And so this is Christmas

It's Christmas eve.  The babies are sleeping.  I'm about to go wake them from their nap so that we can go to church.  Yet I know when I walk into the room and look down into their crib, emotions will overwhelm me.  I will stare at the beauty that is their life and I will weep.  And my tears will stain my cheeks.  And I will not wipe them away.  For they will be the tears of victory.  Of a battle that was won.  Of the treasure that was found.

Last Christmas, we were living with my parents.  I was miserable.  I watched everyone come and go.  Full of Christmas cheer and holiday happiness.  From my bed.  The medications I was taking were toxic.  Keeping the babies safe within me, but taking their momma to the very edge of sanity.  Last Christmas, I couldn't even picture in my mind what I would gain, but rather I only saw what I had lost.  Harper.  So much of my existence is intertwined with her.  For while she is not here on earth with me, she is with me constantly.  And I have to acknowledge the fact that had Harper lived, the boys wouldn't be here.  And I have to wonder about His plan.  For He knew it all.  And in my mind, I like to think that the very moment her heart stopped, He grabbed it.  Held it tightly in the palm of His hand, and divided it in three.  Giving each baby and me a piece of her.  So that their hearts would beat with gentleness, full of humility and gratitude.  Open to the wonder of all the world has to offer them.  And my heart now would beat with a devotion unmatched.  To life and all of its splendor.  Because life is for the living.
Many nights over the past year, I have cried.  At both the injustice of losing her and at the grace of receiving them.  For so long I have tried to separate them.  Harper.  The twins.  But maybe that's just it.  Maybe they are not meant to be separated.  My heart holds her memory.  But my heart beats for them.  They own me.  They saved me from myself.
I am crying now.  And I know that I will cry even harder at church.  Because I know that everything that has happened has brought me to this singular moment.  Of grace.  And as Silent Night is being sung in a sanctuary lit only by candlelight, and I am holding my babies, I will smile.  For this is Christmas.  This is the moment of my life.  And I am grateful.  And I am blessed.

MERRY CHRISTMAS