For the past month our home has not exactly been what you'd describe as merry. Noah has been struggling adjusting to middle school and life. Meltdowns have been a plenty and convincing him -- a child who nearly matches me in height and weight that 'you must go to school' has been a challenge. One day I arrived at work so frazzled - but oblivious (until a kind co-worker pointed it out) that my shirt was on inside out.
Inside out...that's what I felt like.
When asked, "Mom, what do you want for Christmas?" My response was often, "peace".
But, to myself realized I also was in need of some wonder.
During the holiday season I've had a bit of Facebook envy towards my friends as they've shared posts of elf shenanigans, train rides to the North Pole and their children's letters to Santa. While I know Jesus is the reason for the season -- I miss the wonder and joy my children expressed as they marveled at the magic...in believing in something they've never actually seen -- like flying reindeer, pointy-eared elves, fairies and such.
Sometimes the grind of parenting and life can be tempered when paired with some magic and wonder -- both of which can be in short supply when you are middle-aged and your future path seems more rigid than flexible and is filled with more obligations than choices.
...like getting real about your child's potential
...meeting with lawyers to discuss setting up a special needs trust
However, this afternoon, wonder knocked at our front door... dressed in full-Rudolph the Reindeer attire with a plastic bag full of wrapped gifts for our family.
Shocked. My brain was unable to make sense of things and with my mouth hanging open, I silently watched as a bit of magic wished me a Merry Christmas and then turned and headed back towards the road.
The packages were addressed to us individually and each one signed from "your secret Santa".
While no one in our home thinks reindeer can fly or fairies live in our garden -- today's visitor reminded me that life is still full of surprises and wonder.
Sometimes believing is seeing.