I haven't written anything in ages and I miss it.  The kids told me that when they are on school laptops and they google their own names that my blog posts come up and they love to read the stories of our family.  Looking back on a Christmas Eve years ago made my heart so happy and I realized that I should at least try to keep our day to day stories alive.

So here we find ourselves in Advent 2019.  It feels appropriate to begin again in Advent.  It has been such a beautiful season of preparation here.  We have so enjoyed decorating together and hanging the tree and welcoming our elf and lighting the candles each night.  My heart is so warm with joy, a deep, abiding joy and I am so grateful.

The Children's Christmas musical at church was  "Wise Guys and Starry Skies."  Maeve was a baker.  The musical was so moving.  One young boy sang a song, "My gift is me," and I was moved to tears.  The ending line said, "May our hearts be Christ's throne."

Making Gingerbread Houses

Our Advent Devotions this year are from Sweet Melee and they involve reading another name of Jesus every day and learning about the name.  The kids wanted "I am" to come first because then they could make sentences.  Maeve's favorite name is Bread of Life.  And of course, one day, the elf took the place of The Word on the chain of names.  

Looking Back, Looking Forward

I stumbled across my old blog posts and it caused me to pause and reflect on where I am on this journey.

This December will be five years since they found a tumor in my brain. After the surgery, chemo and radiation, I have had  five years of clean scans, healthy living and waking up each day to greet my beautiful children and watch the sun rise through my bedroom windows.

I still go for scans every six months and they are still nerve-racking, for sure.  But every time I enter the doctor's office she gives me a clean bill of health.  Often, I don't feel like I can trust her, wondering if she is hiding something or sugar coating things.  And then, I remember that she regularly has to give out the worst news that anyone can possibly hear and that I need to trust her incredible expertise and allow myself to hear the good news that I am still not in any danger.


And every time, Paul and I drive home hand in hand, grateful for the good news.

American Museum of Natural History