I had a lot planned out for Advent -- Bible readings, lighting of candles, . . . Special activities. . . Hand-made gifts. . . But, well, life happens. Life with four littles and a husband out of town for two straight weekends and busy with school for three straight weeks happens. And plans become plans and nothing more.
While it is easy for me to let my plans crumble to a pile of dust, it is very difficult for me to find peace in the destruction. I like to cling, not to the plans, per se; I cling to the feeling that I've failed when I don't see my plans through. I sit and beat myself up because I didn't read our Bible verses for three straight days, we've only lit our advent wreath candles once, I never got to a library to get our Christmas reading list together, I never figured out how to make each child a hand-stitched teddy bear, I haven't helped the kids make their gifts for extended family. . .
I fail to sit and remember that I have taught my eldest two the first 13 verses of Luke 2; that they have memorized several Christmas hymns in the last few weeks; that G seems to remember many of the Bible stories that we've talked about (remembers them from other holiday seasons in which I felt I failed); that I watched them act out, of their own free will, the story of St. Lucia (several times); that I have a son who (like it or not) knows that Christmas isn't about toys but about Jesus; that I've spent some good time curled up with my kids watching Christmas movies. . .
So, this is a note to myself:
"Don't just let go of the plans, Realmomma; let go of the guilt too."