George Bailey

 "Love is how you treat someone. Not how you feel about them."

Every year I begin Advent with lofty goals. I'm going to do all the readings. There will be church attending, candle lighting. People will know the true meaning of Christmas.

There will be family fun. We will see some lights. Play some games. Attend the things.

Every. Single. Year.

And every single year my advent looks almost exactly like this picture.

This year we are 4 for 5 with COVID the week of Christmas. Someone in my home has been very sick for the last six weeks. Every. Single. Day. We've had the flu, some weird respiratory virus that wasn't positive for anything, then COVID.

We are missing the things. The candles haven't been lit because people are too tired or coughing too much.

Instead of making merry magic, I'm busy cleaning up vomit, lysoling all the things, and trying to figure out how much Walmart and Amazon can bring me.

The other night we curled up on the couch and watched It's a Wonderful Life.

Oh my do George Bailey and I seem to have a lot in common this week.

I had grand plans and things are looking very..........average.

I wanted more.............and instead I have less.

It's no mystery that my favorite Christmas movies all seem to have the same theme. They give you a glimpse into another path so you can appreciate the one you are on.

This week of Christmas we were gifted the opportunity to really love one another.

Not with things wrapped with bows under the tree, but in gifts of services.

We made each other soup. We went on prescription drug runs for others. We found the missing thermometer. The not fallen ran errands for the fallen. In the days before Peanut fell ill, people took turns spending time with her.

I'm reminded that Mary's first Christmas probably wasn't as she envisioned.

Maybe she, too, had a bit of a George Bailey complex. She wanted something else. Something that seemed bigger. Better. Something that looked better on Instagram.

But, she was called to the average.

To birth the Savior. To raise him.

Her days probably looked pretty ordinary. She nursed a baby, chased a toddler, argued with a teenager.

We can all agree that her work mattered.

It was anything but average.

Mama Warriors, as we walk into these last few days of Christmas preparation, let me remind you that it's not the gifts that land under the tree that they will remember.

They will remember the feel of your home.

Ditch the stressful running around in favor of eating frozen pizza around your table.

Choose to be present over the scramble of presents.

Embrace the average because if it's good enough for Mary and George Bailey, I'm pretty sure it's good enough for me and you.