Molly as Mary and Ryan as Joseph (Molly calls him Joephus)

The day started like any other day. Little did I know about the challenges that lay ahead.

A blur of breakfast dishes, playing, arguing, and Holiday crafts, led quickly into afternoon.

A dinner guest was to be expected in a few hours. I busied myself laying out Christmas towels in the bathroom and picking up my boy from school.

Somehow, the sun had set, and dinner was still in a pile of ingredients resembling groceries – not a meal. The lit outdoor Christmas lights were blaring at me as if to say, “Why didn’t you do a crock pot meal? Dinner is right around the corner!”

Molly decided to “help” me cook by emptying an entire sack of flour on my living room rug.

The babies managed to empty out Ryan’s desk drawers while I was cleaning the rug.

Ryan and Molly fought over something, in-which, the nativity scene fell over.

Okay. At this point, I’m yelling, “Everyone quiet! Stop it! What are you doing! Go to your room!”

Then, on my knees, patting the ground around my room and the hallway, I shout to the other room, “WHERE is baby JESUS?” I shouted it with a harsh tone. The kind of tone that curls your lips as you said it.

The moment was not lost on me. Where was baby Jesus? The small plastic mold of baby Jesus, I was so longing to find, was under my hamper. I gave myself a wry smile, shook my head and shed a tear. I had spent more time looking for a plastic mold version of Jesus than worshiping Him this season.

Vowing to refocus my energy, I set the nativity and vacuumed the flour.

Peter brought home Chinese take-out and our guest was gracious.

We said a prayer over our meal. We laughed over knock-knock jokes, fortune cookie predictions and noodle covered babies.

The day came to an end much as it has begun…pajamas and dishes. But, a little something had changed in my heart.

Love,

Jess