Merry Christmas

First a little update.  Emma and her friends--there was a revolving door of them but never more than ten at a time--watched the first five Harry Potter movies.  The first girls arrived around 8:00 and they were done at 9:30 last night.    They ate a lot of popcorn and treats and sandwiches and pizza and drank butter beer that Adam bought them on a late night Winco run the night before..  They also talked the entire time they were watching.  Every time I ventured downstairs to refill food or do laundry, I would shake my head at the sheer wonder of it all.  Five movies back to back in one day?

Braeden was a little overwhelmed by the volume of silly girls in our basement all day, I think.  He stayed upstairs as much as possible.  (Mark watched the movies...he has no problem with silly girls.)  At one point, Braeden said, "It always amazes me when Emma is the least weird of her friends.  I mean, how is that possible?"

It is sort of hard to believe.  But I like those weird friends.  They are kind and funny and good and oh so quirky.

Here's another update:  Adam sent me this picture after he read my text about Mark's cat burglar outfit.

I love the smug look in Mark's eyes because he knows he's responsible for Braeden's laughter. 

Spending Christmas with these people is the best gift I could have. 
   


It hit me full force on Sunday when I was at church.  The whole Christmas thing.  I'd felt glimmers of it all along in the season, at concerts, seeing Temple Square aglow with lights, and hearing scriptures read.

Sunday though, a few things really gave me pause.  For one thing, Mary.  Poor Mary.  Wonderful, dear Mary.  She was asked to do something very hard.  Not only did she give birth in a stable, but then she had a bunch of visitors the same night.  And how terrifying was it, to give birth to the Son of God?  Did she feel adequate to the task?  Did she flinch?  I don't think so.  And things didn't necessarily get easier as His life progressed.  I want to be like Mary.  I want to step up when I'm asked, no matter how hard or scary.

I have a ways to go.

I also was thinking about the shepherds.  They were nothing fancy, yet they were the ones who received angelic visitors.

I'm nothing fancy either.  And the Gospel is for me as well as for the fancy people.

It's for everyone.

I wrote this on my chalkboard, because sometimes I'm weary, but right now, I feel like rejoicing.

Christmas.

It's pretty wonderful.

I hope your holiday is happy.  And full of good things.