Yesterday we had our Christmas program during our regular church service followed by a special devotional last night. I was in a quartet and our ward choir, then sang with the stake choir later that night. My husband said he could hear me during the first song, even with the orchestra playing.
The night before brought some hard news and marital stress. As I checked our bank account to see if our paycheck was directly deposited, I was so upset to see it was much smaller than expected even though my husband worked so many hours of overtime. I was stressed, he was stressed, and we ended up having one of the most unpleasant moments of our marriage. I can count on one hand the number of times we have had a “fight” during our 13 years of marriage. It was short, but we both felt really bad about it. I’ve been working hard to really feel the Spirit of Christmas and was further away from it than ever.
I think we both had a “George Bailey” moment. In the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”, he’s ranting at his entire family because of the stress he’s under. Only my husband didn’t have the perfect, understanding wife George Bailey has. I lost it too. It’s bad enough worrying about Christmas gifts, but to wonder again if we would even have enough money for groceries just sent me over the edge. There’s this ever growing pile of needs we have and we just can’t keep up.
The van needs an oil change and other repairs.
My husband’s truck seat broke and he has to prop it up when he drives.
Our futon couch frame broke and the mattress keeps sliding down. It was already uncomfortable and we can’t stand sitting on it together as a family.
There’s a spring poking out of the side of our mattress and I keep hurting myself on it. It’s over 10 years old.
Our two bedroom apartment is too small for six people and we can’t afford to move, yet our manager could kick us out for being over our occupancy limit. Which leaves me wondering what we would do, where our children would go to school, and how on earth we would afford a bigger place.
So I was feeling low. I cried most of the night, felt sick to my stomach, was very hurt by the things that were said, and I couldn’t even hold it together during choir practice. During our morning performance, I cried as our bishop spoke and my flute playing friend handed me her handkerchief. It was hard to feel joy about anything as I wondered if we were going to be OK. Friends approached me afterwards and wanted to know if I needed to talk, but I just couldn’t let that dam burst at church.
When I get upset, I completely lose my appetite. I came home and took a nap, had a drink, then returned to church for practice with our stake choir. The music was wonderful and I lost control over my tears briefly between songs. I was glad the director was right in front of me so at least people in the congregation wouldn’t notice.
When we had a reception afterwards with refreshments, I tried my best to put on a happy face and then my Relief Society president approached me and said someone was donating a gift card to us anonymously. She wants to drop it by today and said I better make a shopping list because it’s rather large.
Again, I felt like George Bailey. It’s a Christmas miracle! I don’t know who this person is, but they have given us the gift of not worrying! This is a tremendous load off of us and I can’t express how grateful I am. I’m also kicking myself again for not having more faith and allowing the spirit of contention into our home.
May you all be blessed with Christmas miracles.
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