A bi-polar Christmas.

My daughter has referred to Christmas 2012 as our "Bi-polar" Christmas.  Up and down, up and down.   On December 3rd, I should have heard that roller coaster "click, click click" that always proceeds the loop-de-loops.

Ryan jammed his finger at school.  That was it.  A simple injury, nothing more.  Then Jon got sick.  He stopped going to school December 5th, and although we tried, he could never get well enough to return to class.  Then Ryan got sick.  Then Ryan got sick again and landed in the emergency room.  And then things got worse.

Not for my family, but for a family I have never met, I probably never will, but because of my job and connected friends I know more than I should about their pain and their loss.  My daughter is crying and her heart is breaking, not because she lost a close friend but because so many of her friends lost a close friend and she has never experienced this kind of gut wrenching grief from the second row.  It isn't fair.  It isn't right.  It shouldn't have happened to anyone. 

We both sat at Midnight Mass, crying, laughing and praying.  It was a strange hour as so many different emotions swept through our heart.   I kept telling myself to just push through.  We did.  We went home and opened gifts and laughed and experienced the joy that Christ was born, to save us all.

Soon, I hope, I will stop crying long enough to pray about God's will.  I am ready for a come to Jesus with those sitting behind the big desks. 

Miracle #2

A couple years ago, when our washing machine went on strike for having to work overtime, I began washing clothes across the street at a local Laundromat.  My four children thought this was the height of fun (shows how pathetically we attempt to entertain them) and always wanted to accompany me.

Of course it was only after we arrived and loaded all the machines with our dirty laundry that I realized I had forgotten the laundry soap at home.  I told my kids we would walk to the convenience store next door to grab some snacks and some detergent, but as we headed for the door a man approached and stopped me.

"Do you need some soap?", he asked.  I said yes but we were headed next door to buy a bottle.  He handed me is half empty jug of soap and said, "Here.  You can have the rest of mine. I am done with everything I have to do."  Gosh, how nice of him.  Was he sure? Yes, he replied that it was fine.  I thanked him and filled our machines, plugged in the quarters and turned to give him his soap back but he was gone.

I grabbed the kids and we headed next door for drinks and chips, but as we walked into the store we all froze.  The cashier was doubled over, her forehead was bleeding and another teenage employee looked to be in shock and wasn't moving. 

We had just missed being smack dab in the middle of a store robbery and, in fact, if the nice man hadn't stopped and offered his laundry soap all four of my children would have been with me, in the store, during the robbery.  We arrived in time to assist the cashier, get ice for her head and call 911, but missed the robbery itself.