Shawn knows my heart. He (usually) does his best to protect it. Several months ago, I heavily petitioned him for a little girl through Compassion International. Her name is Anastasya, and she's beautiful. I've never met her, but I love her and care for her as if she were my own. I pray for this precious little girl, I pray for her parents, and I'm grateful for the blessings in our lives that we are able to share with them. Shawn set her up through the year in our name, but when it came time for her birthday, we weren't able to contribute the way we wanted to. The deadline for Christmas gift donations rolled around shortly after that, and it didn't look as though we'd make it. I have had tremendous guilt over this; when we committed to Anastasya, I really wanted to be able to support her and celebrate with her properly. When we couldn't, it just really hurt.
This season has been difficult for me for several reasons, and my depression has worsened to a great degree. Our marriage has been rocky for the past several months, and life has been far from easy around here. I have not looked forward to Christmas, and quite honestly, I could've done without celebrating it at all. It just doesn't feel right this year. I had a difficult time buying presents for the boys, and it wasn't until Shawn insisted we go out that it finally got done. I'm one of those people who typically has these sorts of things done by November, and I normally find great joy in buying gifts for others. Shawn has asked for gift ideas for myself, and I haven't been able to give him any. I just don't have the joy in me this year. I know he's upset because he hasn't known what to give me and is feeling empty handed. I've explained to him that with the depression as bad as it's gotten, gifts really won't make much sense, or even make much of a dent in my Christmas this year. I know that's hard for some people to understand, but that's just how it is. It's difficult to explain that the only way Christmas would be the way I need it to be is for my best friend's world to be righted, for my extended family to be "normal" (ha!) and functional, for life to just be easy to live--pain free, full of answers, forgiveness, communication, and other "grown up" things. Santa just can't deliver those.
Today we got a letter from Compassion. It was a receipt for Anastasya's Christmas gift, something my husband took care of because he knew how much it means to me that she has a good Christmas, because he understands how important and special this precious little girl is to me. It is meaningful to him because it's meaningful to me, knowing that Anastasya is taken care of.... And it's by far one of the best grown up Christmas presents I could ever hope to receive.
My Christmas is complete. That's all I needed.
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