Last year I spent Christmas Day in the hospital with Tess. She had had five brain surgeries since October and had just gotten out of the PICU after spending over a month there trying to clear a shunt-line infection that settled in her brain and abdominal cavity and did not leave willingly. We listened to Christmas music, visited with the nurses, opened a few gifts, and tried to make the best of the day. Once she fell asleep, I went to a late showing of The Greatest Showman, a movie that I connected with so deeply that I saw it three more times in the two months that followed (not sure if it was the music, Hugh Jackman, or the story that ended the way I wished my story would end at that particular time). It wasn’t the first Christmas Day I had spent with a child in the hospital, but it was the first time I had not seen my other children on Christmas Day. My standard for a good Christmas Day was not falling apart, and I hadn’t. Mostly, I was just relieved that it was over.

Tonight as I watched Tess literally run laps around our house in her walker, I thought about how far she has come in the last few months. She was discharged from the hospital last January into a family that was beyond broken. The day after her discharge, I spent the entire day in the hospital myself. The months that followed were some of the worst of my life. Having a mom in crisis did not help Tess recover from all that she had been through—her basic needs were met but not much else.

Some may look into the window of our lives this Christmas and find it lacking—money is tight and gifts are few, some members of our family are missing, and we have downsized significantly. But those who live out the days with us have a different perspective. They see peace, order, routine, safety, and a lot of love. And in that soil, much growth is occurring—some visible, some internal.

I have had such a different perspective on Christmas this year. I have written a lot but wrapped nothing and honestly don’t have much to wrap. We have a beautiful tree and lights on our house that have brought us all much joy, but that is the extent of our decorations. We have been reading devotionals, listening to music, visiting live nativities, and participating in our church’s Christmas festivities. No hustle and bustle, no frantic planning, not much baking or shopping. Instead of anticipating Christmas Day as an event, it feels like the kids and I have been experiencing a season of Christmas—a time of seeking the Lord and soaking in what He has to teach us. We are cherishing an extended celebration of the new life God has given us, the people He has brought to share it with us, and the growth we are experiencing within it.

One of the Advent devotionals I have been reading captured this perspective perfectly: “Into the often heated competition between wants and needs, Jesus comes to refocus our energies and to claim our hearts. The things we need are safety, shelter, healing, meaning, and purpose…All the rest is window dressing, despite the fact that we spend so much of our time, energy, and resources on such things.” (Expecting God’s Surprises by Robert E. Dunham—p.56)

Last Christmas, the kids and I needed almost all of those things desperately. This Christmas, we have them all, and I am awestruck at the goodness of the God who provided them. We not only have shelter, but we have a home that is truly my favorite of all the homes I have ever lived in. We have meaning and purpose as we spend our days trying to love, encourage, serve, teach, and learn with one another and those whose lives have intersected with ours. We are (mostly) safe from abuse and toxicity, and God has administered great physical and emotional healing for all of us in the past four months.

It is less than a week away, but I have no idea what Christmas Day will look like this year in terms of food, gifts, or activities. I expect them all to be a bit sparse. But interestingly, I am unfazed by the lack. As our needs have been met, our wants have just disappeared.

Listening to Tess call out “Bless you, Mommy!” when I sneeze, seeing Lydia and Titus hug one another and proclaim themselves “best friends,” watching Jonah laugh with his friends, hugging Hamilton, collaborating with therapists and care attendants who serve my kids so faithfully, connecting with my NC family, engaging in meaningful conversations with treasured friends, savoring Marina’s warm presence around our home, sipping tasty holiday beverages, listening to the Lord throughout each day and trying to capture what He shares with me in these journals…simple but cherished moments in ordinary days. Each one a gift from the Giver to me—along with the grace to see them.

Perspective.

“And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19, NIV)