Reflections From a Heart Overflowing

I am not yet tired of Christmas music, candle light, licking flames on the hearth, and the Christmas lights that are beginning to sag on the tree.





















The Tree? It is a desert tree after all. It's practically a cactus anyway, needing little in the way of water. It's a hardy tree, thick in the trunk and limbs.
It was yellow in the needle before I ever laid eyes on it, so being that color now doesn't tend to disappoint like it would if it had started out it's privileged position in a hue of deep dark green.

I think it'll still be here when Grams and Pops visit in another week and a half.
We'll see. :-)

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This evening I stirred ground beef and beans for burritos, and while Clayton grated cheese I told him of this night seven years ago.


Uncle Wyatt had been visiting OUR house in California for Christmas that year, and I was as large as Mary with baby Jesus and ready to meet my own dear babe.

Labor started, and in no time flat we were racing up the hill where our hospital and midwife waited 30 minutes away. It was Winter, wet, and cold. I rolled the down the car window and breathed in the icy rain with intense relief.
I arrived at the hospital 9 cm dilated. I grinned at the nurses and they in turn raised their eyebrows in dismay. (See, I knew I was almost done. Sweet victory!)

An hour and a half later my mom and brother arrived to "wait" for the baby.
AJ ushered them into my room dimly lit and peaceful - blankets tucked around me, and a bundle in the crook of my arm.

"Do you want to see him?" I asked.

"Him?!?" I heard echoed

Shock.
Surprise.
Doubt.
Delight.
Laughter.

"Clayton Praise" I said.

The nurses thought it was a name for a big man.
I hope so. I expect the Lord will do something special with my son.
For HIS glory.

He has. And is in the process of doing.
Big things - some I can see, and others I can't. Perhaps never will, but that's okay. My Clayton is on loan to me, the best Christmas gift I ever received... seven years ago...

















Cheese piling high under the grater (and some making it's way to the tile floor below), Clayton listens with that contagious grin taking over his entire face.
It's his "last night being six" I remind him with a pang in my own heart.
He asks me questions, and I remember out loud to him.

I remember Uncle Charlie, not yet married to his sweetheart, sitting in my hospital room with his injured leg encased in a cage. I knew it was a privilege to have him there with his life and limb.

I remember Zachary's first glimpse of his first brother. He was more interested in lying on that cold hospital floor and playing with the foot pedal on the trash can "Flip-clack, flip-clack, flip-clack". And the remote that made momma's bed si-----t up, and la-----y down.
He grew into the big brother roll gracefully, all things considered.

I remember the red, green, and white knitted hat that the nurses sent Clayton home in. Only the Christmas babies got hats like that - hand made by some dear old ladies who loved the Itty-Bittys born during this season.

Oh how I remember...

It is good to reflect back, to enjoy memories.
And it is only prudent to look forward and plan for the future.
But tonight after I tucked in my brood - all six - and while I was decorating, and wrapping gifts for, and appreciating my son, I remember that it is the wise woman who lives in the now.
Relishing the "now" moments, and not just documenting them to look back on later. What I like to call "reveling..." just taking it all in and being thankful. Ever so thankful!

Lord, thank you for my Clayton Praise!
And help me to love him and enjoy him each and every moment you continue to share him with me.

Happy Birthday dear one!