Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

It’s the song I’ve heard most this season. It’s the song that’s resonating most with me this year.

Last Christmas, Apple launched an ad that featured the Harris family and a “misunderstood” teenaged boy on his iPhone. As far as I’m concerned, it’s one of the most brilliant, heart-warming and moving ads I’ve ever seen. It brings tears to my eyes every time I watch it. Remember the song that accompanied the ad?

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

(After you watch the video – it’s only 1 minute 30 seconds – make sure to keep reading. I’ll be sharing more about my Merry Little Christmas Giveaway!)

I wonder what it is that you need to have a Merry Little Christmas this year. Love? A big bear hug from someone who really cares? Space to breathe? Peace and quiet? Forgiveness? Words of affirmation that everything’s going to be alright? Quality time with friends and family? Understanding we’re loved by a great big God who sent tiny baby Jesus to save us from the brokenness and pain we experience every day?

I don’t know your most intimate needs this Christmas. But I do pray that the longings of your heart and soul will be fulfilled. I do want you to have a Merry Little Christmas. And I do hope that one of these three giveaway packages could bring you a bit of joy this season.

Between now and Friday, December 12th at 9:00 CST, I’m giving away three Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas packages! The three packages are pictured and detailed below. At the end of this post, you’ll find a Rafflecopter sign up for each package. Sign up for one, two, or all three. It doesn’t matter to me!

Maybe you could use a package yourself, or maybe there’s someone you could gift a package to this Christmas? Either way, it’s all good. Take a peek. See what sparks your fancy. Which package would bring the most joy? Which package meets your needs this Christmas?

For Parents of Littles.

A beautiful hardcover children’s book titled God Made Light by Matthew Paul Turner, an accompanying set of encouragement notes for your kiddos, and a night light to remind your little one that there’s always light, even in the darkest of nights. And for you? The Love Dare and The Love Dare for Parents books. Because if there are two things worth investing in this Christmas and moving into the new year, it’s your marriage and your kids. Maybe this package is for you?!

For Parents of Teens and Pre-Teens.

Maybe, like the Harris family, you’re seeking a little wisdom as you parent a teen or pre-teen this Christmas. This package includes Dennis & Barbara Rainey’s book Parenting Today’s Adolescent, as well as The Love Dare for Parents, because truth be told, we could all stand to learn some fresh ways to love our kids. This package also includes The Love Dare, because I’m a firm believer that children and teenagers need healthy, loving relationships modeled for them. Do you want to learn practical ways love your spouse even more this Christmas? Do you need a little insight as to how to navigate those teenage years? Then this package might be for you!

For One Who’s Seeking Less. Or More.

I don’t know who you are, but I know you’re out there. Maybe you’re Longing for More, and could use Timothy Willard’s book. Maybe you just need some Breathing Room, and could use Leeana Tankersley’s book. Or maybe you just need a really good cry? The Notebook DVD will help you release those tears if nothing else will. Guaranteed. When I saw this movie in the theater the first time, I thought I’d nearly break out in ugly cry right there in my recliner eating buttered popcorn and Sour Patch Kids. So if you need more. Or less. Or an ugly cry this Christmas, maybe this package is for you?!

The giveaway ends on Saturday, December 13th at 12:00 am CST. I need time to get these packages mailed and to your door before Christmas!

Enjoy, friends.

And Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

 

 

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

16 years in to this thing called marriage…

We know that wedding day was much, much more than a dress and a tux, a bouquet and boutonniere.

16 years in…

Puppy love has all but disappeared. In it’s place, a richer, deeper, grounded definition of love that’s committed to the test of time.

16 years in…

We know that real life marriage isn’t so much about sweeping each other off our feet as it is about sweeping the kitchen floor.

16 years in…

We’re realistic about the fact that people change. In the beginning, we climbed the ladder in tandem. Now, he continues the climb while she heads down in search of green pastures. The challenge lies not in the climbing up or heading down the ladder, but in the commitment to discovering a safe old oak tree for meeting under at the end of each long day.

16 years in…

We actually know what they meant when they said you’re not just marrying each other, you’re marrying the entire family.

16 years in…

All but one of the grandparents have passed. We honor their legacy, remember we wouldn’t be here without them, and daydream about just one day where we could call grandma over and ask her how she did it with three little ones, six little ones, a husband and household on top of that.

16 years in…

We know flower girls turn into PhD candidates, junior bridesmaids turn into accountants, and junior groomsmen turn into mental health workers. Long nights talking in the dorm room turn into months of phone tag just to hear her voice; years spent working towards the same degree turn into treadmill time hashing over new, grown-up mama-sized dreams. Things happen, man, things happen. What was once an assembled wedding party becomes a whole line of friends and family gone this way and that. Friends divorce, friends remarry, neighbors divorce, neighbors move out. Marriage isn’t for them, marriage is for them. The fragility, the sacred art of relationship is tested and worked out again and again by 16 years, yes 16 years.

16 years in…

We recognize marriage is like music. Some days, you’re desperate to sing your own melody. Most days, it’s better to sing in harmony. And on all days, it’s best to work together, composing each bar, each line in tandem, working towards completion of this song we’ve committed to compose together.

16 years in…

We need our Heavenly Father to make this marriage thing work even more than we’ve ever needed our earthly parents.

16 years in…

We’re familiar with every reality of married life. It’s not easy folks, it’s not easy. Let’s not kid ourselves. We’re human beings and there’s nothing easy about committing to one human being for a lifetime. Kids run wild, dirt and food cover kitchen floors, people run out of underwear because the laundry’s piled up so high, and ya, we disagree on stuff, sometimes big time, like night and day. But we committed, we’ve committed, to this thing called marriage. We’re in it. Those vows? They meant something. Because we love each other. So we live those vows – day, by day, by day, by day. We decide, we’re doing this. We know, this is real love.

16 years in…

We understand marriage isn’t so much about romance as it is about cultivating deep, authentic relationship. Because the most romantic thing there ever could be is one human being understanding, accepting and choosing to love another deeply, faults and all.

16 years in…

We know we’ve changed. We’re not the same we once were.

We’re desperate to nurture, cultivate, love on our marriage, even amidst this crazy, crazy world.

No marriages are perfect, but all are real.

So today, we commit not only to what is real, but to what is possible.

For love covers a multitude of things. Love bears all things. Love hopes all things.

The legacy we dream of is a lifetime together.

So cheers to us and all the married alike. Cheers, to living the dream you dreamed on your wedding day. Cheers, to the legacy of “I do.”

 

Sometimes life as a mama doesn’t feel compatible with your dreams as a woman.

Maybe you’re late to the game. You stayed home with the kids all those years only to discover that when you arrived to interview at the workplace of your dreams, everyone else was in line ahead of you. Or maybe they were already seated at the table, and you feel like there’s no way you’ll ever get a seat. It’s hard to imagine how you’ll ever catch up. How will you get to that place you imagine for yourself when all you’ve ever done is give everything you have to your kids?

Maybe you were already in line, maybe you were already seated at that table. You were on your way, but motherhood called, and you had to step away from the hopes and dreams you had for your life as a woman. You got up from that table, left that place in line. Tears sprung forth from your eyes the second you walked away. You knew you had to do it, you knew it was time, but something tugged at your heart saying stay, stay.

You walk beaten paths with chocolate milk bottles, straws that fell on the ground, and dirty napkins. And when you look at that partially eaten double chocolate chip cookie your baby finished along the beaten path, you think yep, this is my life right now. Chocolate chip milk bottles, straws, dirty napkins, and partially eaten double chocolate chip cookies.

So you keep walking.

You keep on walking and you keep on walking.

You keep on loving and you keep on caring for those beautiful kiddos the very best you can.

You’re keeping on, keeping on.

Because you know – you’re mama, but you’re woman, too.

Your hopes and dreams for your life as a woman won’t be trampled on – just because you’re mama.

For once upon a time, God laid dreams on your heart to become a mama. He made those dreams beautiful in their time. Those little ones you hoped for all those years? Now they’re yours, gifted to you, for such a time as this.

Those little ones that needed you all those years? Your time with them was precious, the days fleeting. You loved them dearly, for such a time as this.

Those tiny ones that beckon you to come, be with them now? They’ll remain tiny for only so long. So love on them, be with them, for such a time as this.

Rest assured, sweet mama, that God’s dreams for you as a woman will be fulfilled. He’ll lead you to that perfect spot in line. He’ll make space for you at that table when your time has come. Rest, assured.

You need not be afraid, tears need not spring forth from your eyes.

For God makes all things beautiful, in time.

You’ve been in a season, mama. You’re in a season, mama.

So walk on, walk on.

Press on, press on.

Love on, love on.

You’re not just mama or just woman. You’re mama and woman.

Rest assured, mama.

Time’s in your hands, time’s in God’s hands.

As hard as it’s been to find a seat at that table, as hard as it is to step out of line, as much as it seems you’re surrendering your womanhood for motherhood – just know, it’s all compatible.

Because you’re mama and woman.

Be brave. Love big. Press on.

Because you are amazing, just as you are, right where you are.

One day, when the time is right, when the season’s turned, you’ll find yourself seated at that table, you’ll find yourself at the front of the line – and you’ll wonder, how in the world did those days of partially eaten double chocolate chip cookies escape me?

Amy

*This post is part of a month-long series titled Motherhood Unraveled. To read more from this series, click here and read to the bottom where all the posts are listed and linked!

That last night in Haiti, I sat on the edge of a bed in a Port-au-Prince hotel room facing my roommate, Georgeann. I’d just met this woman one week prior, but I’d learned enough of her to know she was authentic and completely trustworthy. So in that moment, both of us bare-footed and ready for bed, with all the noise and clamor of Port-au-Prince in the background, I shared the secret of my heart.

There are things I’ve experienced here in Haiti that I’ve never come close to experiencing back home.

Yep. These are the things that have been weighing on my heart. These are the things that have been pressing on my soul since I returned from Haiti, nearly two months ago now. These are the things that call to me, speak to me, dare me to find the soonest opportunity to return to that beautiful country. These are the things I long for when I know in my heart I’m missing Haiti.

How was it possible for me to develop such a deep and rich love for a country I visited only one week?

How is it possible that an adoptive mom’s story really is true, that she’s never heard of anyone going to Haiti just once?

And the question I’ve asked myself time and time again since I returned – why would God have brought me to a place I loved so much, a place that sat so perfectly with my soul, only to take me away again?

It takes me a second to realize the obvious – my family and friends are here in the United States. Of course I desire, of course God desires for me to return to my country, to live, love, nurture and serve those He’s placed in my path. Here.

My life is here.

My life. is here.

My life is beautiful, blessed and rich beyond measure.

But my heart still speaks. That deepest place calls out, longs to linger in the beautiful match Haiti was for my soul.

Perhaps you understand if you’ve been to Haiti.

So I believe. God will have me return.

I believe God is already preparing a way.

I believe He knows exactly where I’ll go next, exactly where He’ll have me next.

And I’ll be open, beyond ready when it’s time to go. Because I know, He will call.

It’ll be specific. And it’ll be with people and for purposes far greater than myself.

Because I simply can’t afford what Haiti needs. Nor can I afford what Haiti has to offer.

So I lend myself as an offering, before He calls. I’m willing to go, it’s my desire, no doubt.

But in the quiet God tames me. He says wait. Hold up. I’m working. Wait. Not yet. Let My plan unfold. I will show you the way.

So I wait.

Patiently.

Very patiently.

I ponder and pray over every clue, wondering if this is what He’d have me do.

And I ponder all the reasons I dared to utter that sentence in the Port-au-Prince hotel room…

There are things I’ve experienced here in Haiti that I’ve never come close to experiencing back home.

I keep these things close, tucked away in the recesses of my heart. For God bestowed on me these most precious gifts, and I’ll treasure them as such until He calls me to return to that beautiful, soul-stirring place called Haiti.

That beautiful place where mamas aren’t afraid to tell truths about the depths of their pain, and they aren’t afraid to share the source of their joy either.

That beautiful place where girls showed me what it looks like to have a servant heart. That beautiful place where I learned what it really means to receive.

That beautiful place where kids from extreme poverty say “I love my life.”

That beautiful place where dreamers dream and believe ALL things are possible, with God, through Christ – even when ALL signs suggest otherwise.

That beautiful place where words mean something. Yes, that beautiful place where words are powerful, limitless, LIFE GIVING.

That beautiful place where simplicity wins, integrity shines, and dignity is always of the utmost importance.

That beautiful place where creativity is fostered, not forced.

That beautiful place where leaders rise among sleeping giants. That beautiful place where great leaders of a country literally stand before you. And you can feel it, this rising up of of a nation as they fulfill their call.

That beautiful place where hearts just like yours affirm, make you feel known, completely understood, tell you you’re beautiful, we love you just the way you are.

That beautiful, beautiful place where humble hearts reign. And you’ve never experienced humility like that ever, ever before. And you finally know, THAT’S what true humility looks like. Yes, that’s a beautiful place.

That beautiful place where joy is unspeakable. And pain is never, ever far away.

That beautiful place where faith crosses every border.

That beautiful place where human souls sing, triumph, keep pressing forward…even if, even though…

That beautiful place where eyes can’t help but notice the poverty, the destitution, the lack of everything, everywhere. That beautiful place where I couldn’t help but notice the wealth, the riches, the abundance in everyone, everywhere.

Yes. Those are the things about Haiti that I can’t quite replicate here, back at home. Those are the things that have been hard to explain. Those are the things that have lingered in my heart. Those are the things that call me, beckon me to return.

Is it possible for a heart to be 100% engaged in one place and 100% engaged in another? So be it. Let it be mine.

If, for any reason, these words have spoken to the deepest part of you, whether you’ve been to Haiti or not, please let me know via comment, Facebook message, or email. Whatever God has in store for me and Haiti, I’m most certainly going to need travel partners. I’m believing He might have one or more of you join me in the future. Who’s it going to be?

Some food for thought this Friday afternoon.

Blessings on your journey, wherever it may lead you.

Amy

**If you’d like to read about my journey to Haiti in February 2014, click on this link and read to the bottom where you’ll find links to every post I wrote about Haiti. It’s an honor to invite anyone and everyone into this life changing story.

My sister sent the text at 5:06 p.m. I read it just as I was pulling in the driveway from work.

“The ambulance is getting dad from the golf course.”

Dad had a heart attack on the golf course. He’d just finished the 4th hole and wanted to finish a 5th, but things had been going downhill fast, so he knew he had to get back to the clubhouse as quickly as possible. He made his way back to safety and the owner of the golf course called the ambulance immediately.

Dad was transported via ambulance to a nearby hospital, and then transferred to a bigger hospital where he’d receive more specialized cardiac care.

My husband and I kept the news to ourselves for a while, but then decided to tell the kids, “Grandpa’s in the hospital.” We gently reminded them that grandpa’s lungs have been sick for a while, noted the oxygen tanks they might’ve seen around grandma and grandpa’s house, and indicated special concern because grandpa had a heart attack tonight.

After some debate and a couple phone calls from mom, we decided the situation didn’t require urgent action on my part. I’d wait until morning to travel and visit dad in the hospital.

I wasn’t sure if I should bring our toddler with me to the hospital. Annother great unknown in this realm of parenting. I debated all the way up until leaving the house. Should I send her to daycare for the day? Or should I bring her with me?

I’m glad I decided to bring Maisie with me.

She was a light from the start.

When we arrived at the hospital and began down the long hallway to grandma who’d been waiting at the cardiac unit, Maisie ran all the way to grandma. She ran what was probably a block, with arms open wide until she landed safely in grandma’s loving embrace.

She was a light from the start.

When we were brought to the consultation room and told by a doctor dad had not one, but TWO arteries in his heart that were 90% blocked, and would need stents placed immediately, Maisie was there. She found a sticker and put it just about everywhere – on the door, on the table, on a landline phone, on my hand, and even on my nose. She brought joy and laughter where there would’ve been none.

She was a light from the start.

After we waited an hour and a half for the stents to be placed, after the cardiologist came in to give us the thumbs up that the procedure was successful, we proceeded to dad’s room on the cardiac unit. When Maisie saw grandpa for the first time, she greeted him without fear “Hi grandpa!” And when grandpa was parched and in desperate need of water or just about anything to quench his thirst, Maisie got a cup of ice chips just like grandpa. With help, she fed grandpa not one, but two ice chips from her cup. Best yet? It was all her idea.

She was a light from the start.

After a cafeteria lunch, we headed back up to dad’s room. Maisie reached out for grandma’s hand. “Hold hand,” she said. So grandma and Maisie held hands, all the way to the elevator that brought us back to floor 2.

She was a light from the start.

After the cardiac technician got dad resettled, flat on his back for another hour or two, I decided it was time to go. Maisie was getting louder. She was getting tired, and she’d missed her regular nap. But she was still up for a great big hug good-bye for grandpa. She leaned in to give him a kiss, and then that great big hug, with her arms wide open the same way she’d opened them wide for grandma down that long hallway five hours prior.

She was a light, even to the end.

I left content, knowing my decision to bring our two-year-old was right. She was light in a place filled with dark and heavy burdens. The innocence and love that radiated from her tiny toddler body was felt and appreciated by all.

For grandpa, for grandma, and others unnamed – may your burdens be lifted, may your steps be lighter, may your hearts feel a bit brighter – because of her tiny, bright light.

Amy