Not Expected

Last night some sweet young ladies from our church came
over to help me decorate our house for Christmas.
This has been a tradition since the start of my “grown-up” life…
an all-girl night of putting up the tree, eating cookies, laughing, etc..

They were all nothing but adorable, helpful & sweet.

But I felt poopy.
But I wasn’t sick.
Truthfully, I was completely disappointed in myself.

-My kids were arguing with each other & acting like people I didn’t know.
What kind of a mom am I anyway?

– My gorgeous historic house deserved beautiful holiday decor…
and I don’t have much… and I’m lacking the skills to do anything with
it even if I did have more.
What kind of homemaker am I anyway?

– The lights were hung uneven, so the top of the tree is dark-ish.
It looks kinda silly. Who strung those lights?  Oh… me… sigh
 Apparently I can’t even do the simplest tasks of decorating.

– etc….etc…

This morning in prayer I pathetically told Jesus how I felt
bummed out… for no reason.

Oh, there’s a reason!

Really, Lord? What?


Huh? Oh… yeah. You’re right. (Like Jesus needs me to tell Him, that! ha)

Sadly enough, I’d let my “ideas of what it SHOULD be” cloud my
gratefulness and it robbed me of the joy of the actual moment.

Expectations keep us thinking about self… ick.

Forgive me, Jesus, for thinking about myself and what I think
things should be. 
That’s so NOT like You. 
It’s NOT the joy of CHRISTMAS.
I refuse to think of myself.

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