I had to learn to make pompons yesterday. I had knit the cutest hats for the kiddos for Christmas, but the pattern directed me to make a pompon and attach it to the end of the hat. I considered just omitting it, but the picture with the pattern looked so cute with the pompon at the tip of the long hat. So, I searched the internet for directions, and attempted it. They didn’t come out too bad actually, and I have to admit that the hats look more complete with the addition.

That’s the sort of thing that I’d have asked Mom to help me with. I’d have taken that hats to her house and we would have laughed at my attempts as she tried to show me how to make a proper pompon. I miss her laugh. I miss a lot of things. It just might be hearing her laugh that I miss the most though. She had a great laugh. She used to laugh all the time. I can still remember what her laugh sounded like. I’m afraid that someday I won’t remember it as vividly as I do now. I’m scared of forgetting the little things. I guess because it’s the little things that I miss the most. It’s the little things that I want to always remember. It’s a double-edged sword. I want to hold on to the memories so much, but remembering brings the tears. Regardless, I would not trade the memories, because they are worth the tears.

I’ve been thinking about my kids lately. I was Munchkin’s age when I lost my Grandpa. I have some memories of him. Ones that I’ve carried with me and cherished for 25 years. But, oh, how I wish that I had more of them! I wonder if she too will hold tight to the memories, and grieve for the moments that she will never get to share with Grammy. I was Mr. Q’s age when I lost my Grandmother. I can’t remember her at all. I’ve tried so hard so many times to pull up something, some memory of her. I regret that I never really had the chance to know her. I wonder what she was like. Will he share the same regrets as he grows? I wish that I knew what to do for them. I pray for wisdom. I know the hurt that they have felt, and will feel. They are so young. I wish that I could spare them the hard things, the painful things.

Oh, the consequences of our sin! I’ve anticipated Heaven for many years. The older I get, the more I see, the more I long for Heaven. That’s what Christmas is about though, the restoration of our souls. We were never meant to live in this sinful, fallen state. That’s why He came all of those years ago, to restore us to all that He had planned for us to be. That restoration will not be completed though, until He returns. In the meantime, we must still live in an imperfect world, full of grief and pain of our own making. We have been redeemed, but His work in us is not yet finished. Someday…

For this week, I’ll keep meditating on the words of the prophet in Isaiah 9:6.

“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.”

Dear LORD… Prince of Peace… I ask that You impart Your peace to us this Christmas. Soothe our breaking hearts this coming year. Continue Your work in each one of us. Strengthen us for the journey. We look to You with hope, because of all that You have promised us. We stand in awe of Your great love for us, broken souls that we are. We humbly and gratefully accept Your grace. Grace for the moment… Grace for today. Amen.