The Christmas Letter

 This is the first year in eleven years of marriage that I have not included a Christmas letter with our Christmas cards.  I always send out a Christmas letter.  Complete with milestones the year held, celebrations that were enjoyed, and any changes/decisions our family had made that I wanted to share.  To be honest, this year, it was just too hard.  The last year was not a great one for me.  I struggled with depression and anxiety, worried too much, enjoyed too little and suffered the loss of a great dream in the death of our pregnancy.

Sitting down to try and put a positive spin on that as I printed out sheet after sheet on sparkly paper felt impossible.

The truth is, the last year also held wonderful memories.  Josh graduating from Rocky Mountain College with his Masters Degree;  reuniting with our loved ones at the airport in May; spending time with my bestie in Anchorage in January; the twins turning six; Wyatt learning to swim; camping at our two favorite places; family movie nights, date nights and more...  But with the loss of my pregnancy being the most recent, it sort of overshadowed all the good that went on.

In the few weeks since the miscarriage, Josh and I have gotten closer than we've ever been.  I have been leaning, hard, into him.  He has risen to the challenge, loving me and hugging me through my tears and pain.  I have also come to love my boys with a new intensity that didn't exist before I lost their sibling.  One night I lay in bed thinking, "Thank God I didn't miscarry the twins.  That I only lost one baby instead of two."  And later I was remembering how when I got pregnant with Wyatt I thought a miscarriage would not be so bad given the circumstances. We were broke, living in the ghetto with no promise of things getting better, and I couldn't imagine how in the world this baby would be a good idea.

In those thoughts are bits of hope.  That God knows what he's doing.  That good things do come out of trials, and that he does have a good plan for me.  I just have to trust, as I'm walking through the darkness, that eventually the dawn will come.

Meanwhile, in the dark, things are a bit sad.  I'm a bit lonely.  And I'm feeling a bit guilty.

I'm sorry there's no Christmas letter, folks.  Fact is, I just couldn't muster the strength to recap the last year in a positive light.  Here's hoping next year I have more sunshine and a little less rain.