Thanksgiving at Christmas

On nights like tonight, when everyone is cozy in their bed...including my dogs on my side of the bed (ah hem) I feel a particular itch. An itch to get something out that's particularly on my mind. And tonight, as I went into Logan's room and flipped the blanket over his police officer-clad body, and walked past my door to hear Dan's low, deep breathing, and peeked in to see my baby Kale snuggled into his blankie and Mister Moose (say it Mith-ter Mooooth) I feel such a deep feeling of gratefulness that I have to get it out.

I am thinking about the last year. I'm remembering how in April I wondered about today. About the week before Christmas. I knew that because of my work situation that we would probably not be in this house and wondered if the decorations would look okay on the new rental and if we would have money to get the kids something worth saying it was from Santa. I thought about what Christmas would be like in a place that wasn't ours, but told myself that whatever happened, we were a family and we would be okay. And then I turned around and it's here. Today is a week from Christmas and everyone is in their beds, peaceful, content, and loved. And I am so very thankful. I feel like somewhere along the way I lost some faith. I read blogs and notes and would see the faith and hope that others had and would feel jealous and wish I could really believe. How is it that when I have been so faithless that I've still been cared for? I still feel lost, but I know this: I am thankful for everything and I am taking a breath and passing along this prayer of thanks to the One who made it miraculously happen.