I wish I knew what it is about this time of year. Why, once Christmas season comes, shit hits the Christmas caroling fan. A season of missile toe and fluffy snow flakes, for me seems to be a time filled with conflict, rash decisions, heart breaking emotions, and failed expectations. Presents are given with hollow hearts and cold arms, and I do not know where the “merry” in Christmas went.
I will tear a man apart before his very eyes. I can do it in such a way that he, sometimes, does not hate me. I kill with a loving glimmer in my eye, and make light of the dire situation with a folly laugh. I hold their broken pieces in my hands, and dust them off like a spring cleaning project. And if I am good, I will make him feel like it is all his fault, and that I just handled him wrong.
That is my sin.
I am not having a good time.
Oh the brokenness we create. I slightly envy people who figured out how to get to marriage. It is not an envy rooted in "my life will be so much better with a husband!", its more of a shocking admiration of two people who, despite their differences, were able to not let themselves get in the way of committing life together.
Really, that is a stick-en miracle.
Happy marriages are miracles and blessings.
It is kind of like God's grace. It makes your mouth hang open and say, "Who... me? you choose.... me? you did that.... for me? Have you looked at my heart recently? Its messed up pretty bad!"
Despite it all, I do believe I did the right thing for the moment. Despite my temper tantrums. Despite my pity parties, and my desperation to have a neat little bow completed with perfectly creased paper around a situation that is called, "Failed Expectations", I know I only tried to be honest with myself and to everyone else the entire time.
Thats all I got. night.
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