This afternoon I was sitting looking at the Christmas tree, and a myriad of thoughts ran through me. I thought about where I am, where I have been, and where I am going. I thought about Christmas and what it really is about. I thought about God’s love for us and I was overwhelmed.
Four months ago I moved to California with a snowball’s chance in h-ll of making it here. I had no job, no friends, and no family. I moved against the recommendations of those with rational argument. I moved to an area with a high cost of living where local teachers were being laid off in droves. I moved during a recession when all the experts say hold onto your job with both hands and kiss up to the boss whenever you can.
To be perfectly honest, I should have already failed. I should be living in my car right now begging money from friends and family alike. I should have been trying to figure out how to get back to Oklahoma where I have support… but I’m not. Instead I am sitting in a wonderful apartment looking at my Christmas tree. It is God’s miracle that I am making it. It is God’s miracle that four months later I am still here with my daughter.
It’s true that things are financially tight. It’s true that the love of friends and family have paid bills when there wasn’t money to pay them. It’s true that I cannot plan more than a few weeks at a time. It’s true that I cannot do all the things I want to do, or provide all the things I would like for my daughter.
At the same time I am incredibly blessed and overwhelmingly thankful. My life is perfect. I have the love of friends and family that I will never take for granted. I have the most beautiful little girl in the world, who is healthy and happy. I have the salvation given to me by the grace and mercy of Jesus Christ.
At this time of the year when the real meaning of Christmas can be lost in gifts, glitter and gatherings it is important to look at what you really have. Be thankful for the miracles that you have received, and the way that God is working in your life. It would be easy to look at what I don’t have, but I can’t seem to notice over everything I do have.
I am the snowball and four months later the flames have not melted me.
I shouldn’t be here, but I am.