Advent Calendars

My sister-in-law has kept up a wonderful tradition of giving Carter an Advent calendar each year. Part of the fun is the anticipation of opening each window to see what lies behind the cardboard shutter. In our case, we always know it's chocolate of some kind, but what shape will it be in? A snowman? A gift box? An angel?

It's fun to discover treasures as we count down to the celebration of our Saviour's birthday. And much like the Wonderful Life movie, we often find ourselves discovering new things about our lives in the holiday season, too. If we push aside the "shutters" of worry and doubt, we can see a new blessing every day.

I realize that despite the fact that parts of my material world seem to be crumbling around me, I am blessed that my faith, my family and my friendships hold firm. And really, what else is there?

Here's what else I have discovered this Advent season. God is perfect and no one else ever will be. The only person who thinks I need to be is me. I have this sneaking suspicion that God is reminding me I am not even close, though, through little things that go clank in the night.

Yup, it's true. I am pretty sure I am the one with anti-Midas touch. I can't blame Carter anymore. It's my fault we are in appliance hell. I think it's my touch. This morning, when my hair dryer snap-crackle-popped and started smoking, I just laughed. Are you kidding me?

Seriously, where's the hidden camera? Was someone filming while hubby and I "worked together" to put the belt on the dryer? How about yesterday when I had Carter hold the partially shattered mailbox in place while I duct-taped it to the post? What about today when the snowblower was stalling every 50 feet or so?

I want to yell, "Why me? I don't deserve this." But I should yell, "Thanks, God. I'm glad it's me." I'm in my deep thinking mode now and realize I can name a half-dozen people off the top of my head who would trade places with me in a second. A friend who just lost his wife to Lupus. A co-worker praying chemo will keep her dad around for another Christmas. Our racing buddies who just buried their mother. A couple who just learned the wife has breast cancer.

We never know what we will discover when we push that shutter aside. But we know that if we look closely, there's a blessing in each window somewhere. We don't know what shape it will come in, but with some faith we will learn to accept it and maybe even savor it.

I for one am going to keep opening those calendar windows until the ultimate blessing arrives on Christmas Day. Then I can rejoice and yell again: "Why me? I don't deserve this. But thanks, God. I'm glad it's me."