Beautiful Chaos

We've just passed the new year, "Hello 2020," but my heart is still lingering at the December 27 mark. That's the date our family got together to celebrate the Pulliam family Christmas. Our four kids are all grown and married now, each having additional families with whom to celebrate. Tom and I have never been sticklers for requiring our celebrations to be on "the day." We're just overjoyed to see the kids whenever, however, and wherever we can squeeze in the family time.

We knew as empty nesters these kinds of get-togethers would be different, but adding in a move to downsize last year meant the change had the potential to be drastic... and disappointing. You kinda figure that the family home, being the place where the kids grew up - even though diminutive in size - would always be a place of welcome homecoming for them and their families. I mean, it's home after all. A bit tighter squeeze could definitely be tolerated for a couple of days, right? But... what if home is now someplace else, someplace different, someplace even smaller.

I can't tell you the hours I agonized over this. I believed in my head that downsizing was the right thing to do, the prudent thing. I wanted to honor my husband's wishes, to make life easier for him, for us. I truly wanted our "second honeymoon cottage," our little Casita Segunda Luna de Miel with all the beauty and sweetness it implies, but my heart was breaking over the loss of the old home, of the old ways, old traditions... the familiar.

I felt regret.

Remorse made an appearance big time. I ugly cried... more often than I care to admit. Then... I prayed. I pulled myself together, and prayed some more. "God, please, please help this little house to still be a welcoming place for our family. Help us to treasure the time more than the place...the togetherness more than the tradition."

This past Thanksgiving and Christmas, God answered my prayer. This tiny little house (less than 900 square feet) became the spot for our gatherings. We squished everyone in here, all twelve of us. Two pups even came along to keep our chicken, (ahem... exotic bird) Rosie company. It was crazy. Crazy good. People were everywhere. Littles were everywhere. Presents, backpacks, bedding and clothes were everywhere. It was great.

Really.

Great.

I loved every messy moment of it!

As the presents were being opened, plates of tamales and chili perched precariously on laps around the room, I paused for a moment to take it all in; the floor newly carpeted in bits of colored paper, the squeals of the grandbabies ripping into their gifts, the laughter of my precious family gathered around me. It was chaos for sure, but the most beautiful chaos I've ever been privileged to witness.

That.

That was the best Christmas gift of all. Our family had survived the change. We were adapting, moving in a different direction maybe, but still moving onward together. We would be ok. God is good, and He is loving. He cares even about the seemingly insignificant desires of a mother's and grandmother's heart... and though He is a God of meticulous order, sometimes He grants us exactly what we need at the time... beautiful, beautiful chaos.