I quickly remembered why I haven't made rosettes in a while.  Those things are a pain!

We had a little more luck with the popcorn balls.

Katrina made popcorn balls.  Violet made popcorn lumps.

The peanut butter balls turned out fabulous, if I do say so myself.

And my dad is already excited about the rum balls.

The peppermint fudge tastes a heck of a lot better than it looks, I promise.

And I do think the girls first experience at making sugar cookies was a success.

At least Violet had a lot of fun.

A lot of fun.

My official taster had her job down pat.

Last night, we auditioned for most obnoxious bell ringers of the seasons.

I think we won.

Especially with our secret weapon.

Tonight we are headed to our Christmas Eve Service. 

Afterwards, we will eat dinner with Jerome's parents and open gifts.

At bedtime, we will head out to my parents house to spend the night. 

I am sure we will be up at the crack of dawn.

We will open stockings, then eat breakfast with my grandma. 

She is 95. 

And treasures Christmas morning with her great-granddaughters.

May you and yours be able to take the time to enjoy the day.

May you treasure the birth of the King.

Today, I am linking up with Shell for Pour Your Heart Out.  Basically, it's a safe place for anything you know you need to say. 

How do you express in words the deepest cry of your heart?

Or do you?

On October 31, I was baptized.  Again.  

And, two months later, I still struggle to explain the how, the why.

The first time, I was 19.  I had accepted Christ not too long before. 

I did it because the mature Christians said it was the next step.

I did it because I wanted to prove to my parents that my Christianity was not just a phase.

I did it because I wanted to make God happy.

 

The trouble is, not much changed.

I was unwilling to let God work in those deep, painful areas of my life. 

In August, I wrote about my experience in allowing God into those recesses for the first time. 

In September, I wrote about the pain and numbness of my depression, the Scriptures that jumped off the page and into my heart, the truth of who I am versus the lies I have believed for too long.

This journey has been long, and hard.  But I need to document it, for no other reason than my own sanity.  There are still dark days, for sure.  Days where I battle to claw the edge of the precipice, terrified of slipping.  But the dark days are starting to number less than the good ones.

On October 31st, I was baptized.  Again.

I struggled for a month before with the decision.  Do I do it?  Should I do it?

No one knew, other than my husband, until that morning.

This COULD NOT be something I did for ANYONE else.

I had to do this for me.

I know that the last 4 months have been completely different than the last 12 years.

I know that God is doing a new work in my heart.

I know that, for the first time, I do not have to fear when God starts to reveal an area of my life that He wants to heal.

It hurts.

And I am not perfect yet. 

Sometimes it seems easier to run sometimes than face the pain.  Sometimes I do run.

But I am learning that He will chase me.

And when I let Him catch me, He will not be angry.

I know that the worst thing I could do is hide the pain.

I know I have no reason for shame or guilt.

And that is why, on October 31st, I was baptized.  Again.

Because I know I am not the only one.

I must be brilliant.  If I make a promise on this blog to take a photo of my children and post it, it drives me nuts until I get it done.  I may have just discovered the secret to regular posts.  Either that or I am just weird.  Anywho...

Sunday morning was the kids' program at church.  I was able to snap these photos before church (but only by allowing Violet to have Mr. Giraffe Puzzle Piece come with). 

Yes, I am not above bribing my children for photos of matching outfits.

And I am very glad I took those photos before church.  Kat's ankle was hurting bad enough that she did NOT want to stand on stage for the performances.  And, since Jerome was in a drama for service, I got to haul my lazy rear up the hill to the kids' building, carry Kat back down to the main building, carry her onto stage, set her up on the little stool, hide somewhere while they were singing, and carry her back up the hill to her class.  Twice.  No wonder I was tired.  And there are no photos of my children singing.

After church, the littles were playing with the nativity set my mom got them last year.  I love it because it is virtually indestructible.   They love it because it is, well, virtually indestructible.

Although I was a bit confused when I saw this:

According to Madi, Dora is Jesus's big sister.  Hmm...