To say I love you

The point of Christmas this year surprised me. I had one goal: to meet with God, find Him hidden in ordinary moments. What I got was a bit of a shock, a reality check, and a lesson in joy.

My grandpa cried. He doesn't cry often, only when he thinks of losing those he loves. He told me he prays for me every night with my grandma, and that I had to find a way to stay strong and keep going. I can't explain this illness. But I did hold his hand. I am feeling much better now that we got the meds right and Thor is by my side. It's not that I don't care about my family. I just can't always remember outside of me. The reminder was heart warming and painful wed.

Other people this Christmas asked me to be there in their stead if they can't. I guess I have never seen my life like that, as one that gives life to others, someone whom is relied upon when others can't anymore. It was sobering and holy. It makes me want to figure out my life so I can ensure that I will be able to step to the plate should it come to that. Must be the planner in me. I am beginning to accept that God knows which place He's going to play me, and I can trust Him to get me ready for whatever lies ahead. But I want to be ready, and I am listening a little more eagerly.

And I am anticipating good. There's a myriad of life events I am looking forward to this year. Lots of you know about them already. I feel like I am starting to come out of a fog. I hope I can stay here with you, learning to see God in human relations, in flowers and leaves, in music and food and art. I am looking forward to all you're going to teach me, hoping that the best is yet to come, and thankful for those of you who have helped me make it this far. You're life savers. Thank you for saving mine.

I love you all. May this year be one of hope and restoration for all of us.