Home for the Holidays

I've always loved coming home. My mom has made our house a home. This beautiful, cozy dwelling space that I walk into and immediately feel that comfort feeling.

On the drive here I realized how long it's been since I've come home and just stayed at home. I didn't really make plans with friends this time. I've really missed my family and I feel as though I've let a space grow between me and my parents and my brother and sister in my five years of living two hours away.

My trip started off rocky. Packing the car in the freezing cold wasn't ideal. Then I went to pick up Memphis and he and I both ate the dust as we walked across Joe's driveway to the car. There I was, a stack of laundry flying through the air on top of me, a crying dog because he couldn't get up and me scrambling to get up with a bleeding wrist, sore bum and bruised elbow. Not a good start at all.

The drive calmed me down, it was smooth. Then I arrived to my dad who completely unloaded the car for me (love him) and my mom who fretted over the puppy.

Here's the thing about my mom. I love her, and I truly appreciate everything that she does for me and Nick and Susie. I think she is a wonderful woman and I don't always know how she does it. But I'm struggling. I think she is one of the hardest people to please, and while I used to do everything in my power to make her happy I've reached a point now where I snap right back at her. I know it's disrespectful, I know she doesn't deserve my shortness. But I think I've grown tired of her unhappiness and discontent. I look around and she has so much to be grateful for. If anyone has reason to complain, it's my dad. She gets to go to school for interior design (which she complains about). She gets to go out to lunch and spend time with friends. She has this wonderful home. And I don't think my father is perfect, but I think he is all in all a loving, faithful servant to her. I honestly do not remember the last time I saw or had a conversation with my mom that didn't involve a complaint about school, work or my father (usually all three). I don't know. I think what troubles me most is that I want to talk to my mom about this. I want to say, "Hey! Snap out of this funk you're in! We all love you but this is getting old." But no matter what approach I've tried to use with her, she manages to make me feel as guilty as she always has. I'm not understanding enough. I don't deal with what she deals with. I am too wrapped up in my own life.

Well, I am wrapped up in my life but I think I am supposed to be. I'm 23 and I can't imagine that she was still making explicit trips to her parents home at my age. In fact I believe they lived in another state and she was working full time.

I try to offer her advice, kind words or a little encouragement and, well "That's just not what I need. I just need you to listen." I don't mind listening. Honestly, I don't. But to expect me to not try and help when it's the same story day in and day out. I guess I'm only doing what I know she would do for me. She's always put her two cents in, she's always tried to give me a few solutions to consider. This is who she raised me to be. On the same turn, I deal with cranky, unhappy complaining people every day. That's not who I want my mom to be because I know at heart she's not. Maybe I'm just at the end of my own rope of patience and I'm being unfair to her.

I'm very discouraged. I have all of these wonderful, joyful feelings right now. I want to share things with her. I want her to be excited when I come home, even with the puppy. And sometimes I think she is happy, and that all the complaining is harbored feelings of resentment for us being gone. But I worry about her and our relationship.

So I'm hoping today is just like the falling on the ice in Joe's driveway - a rough start to a joy filled week. I keep praying for that anyway.

A few other things I think are worth mentioning:

Joe will be home on Christmas Eve, please pray for his safe travel. He is working doubles all week so others can spend time with their families and friends (including me) so it's my hope that this is appreciated and that he enjoys the days he does get to spend with both of his families. I love him and I'm glad to be spending this Christmas with him. He's one of my many blessings this year.

Don't forget the reason for Christmas. The best gift we'll ever receive is already ours. Today I went to church with my best friend and the pastor asked us all to bow our heads and prayed over us for a while. In the moment and all of the prayers surrounding he asked for those who received Jesus in their hearts today to raise their hands. I raised my hand, not because I hadn't already accepted Jesus in my heart (because I have), but because today was a joyful reminder that I need to keep on asking Jesus into my heart, into my thoughts words and actions so I might share his love more freely. I am God's daughter. In all of my concern about the kind of daughter I am to my own parents, I think I had forgotten who I really ought to seek to please. The pastor shared a great analogy about his own father - how he could go home to his parent's house and punch in the garage code and plop on the couch and eat their food because his father entitled him to everything that is his. That's God's free gift to us - a place in heaven and all of its beauty without any debt to him. Receiving presents is always fun, but there is no greater gift than that which God has given us. Take this time of Christmas to celebrate that gift, to bask in the love, family, friends and gifts in your life and to thank God for his grace.

Merry Christmas :)