Today was a good day, even an excellent day. Sundays have the potential to be the best days. Rejuvenating, recharging, and restful. But it isn't a physical rest. It took me a long time to understand the meaning of Sunday being a day of rest. It is not napping- although the rare Sabbaths that include a nap are marvelous. I don't have great words to describe the rest I'm referring to. As if I can set down the weight of living in the world with all its stress and cares for a day and remember what is really important.
After I finished church today, I had a smile on my face I couldn't hide away. I was filled with the true Christmas spirit and in awe of the miracle we celebrate each year. Fortified in faith to withstand the "Christmas eves" of my life because the fulfillment of the promise on Christmas day. What more glorious news can there be than the Savior was born and perfected his life so everyone has hope?! I went to Clara Rae's blessing this morning and during the Sacrament meeting a man who was in a puff powered wheelchair (controlled by puffing or sucking air from a tube- used when injury is so extensive a person is a quadriplegic) sang a beautiful Christmas song. It brought powerfully to mind how miraculous and personal the gifts of the Savior are. This man did not despair because he knew that one day he would be whole again. No matter our weakness, imperfection, injury, pain, or suffering, the healing has already been promised, prepared, and waiting. This has extra peace for me because I realized that even if I cannot help someone at work with all their physical suffering- in the end- it's okay because it is already taken care of. I don't have to carry the weight/responsibility to end their suffering. To me Christmas is hope.