In the hectic craziness of the holiday season, as we scatter in a million directions to do a million different things, and try our best to do something a wee bit productive in-between times, there is also the constant remembering the year is coming to an end. "Can you believe it's been just one year since last Christmas?" Remember when we did this last year on Christmas Eve?" We reminisce and smile and laugh because the memories are happy ones, but deeper inside us, clinging under our skin is the overwhelming ache of nostalgia that comes so regularly, this time, every year, as we close another year of our lives, and resolve to do better in the next one. The year has flown like never before–they just go faster and faster, don't they?
Strange how it is easy to be sad this time of year; the memories flood us and our first reaction is sorrow that things can never be the same again. This Christmas will be our first incomplete one–without Josiah. The pain of growing up and the separation that happens with it is heightened during these holidays which are to be happy, are they not?
But we will not let our hearts grow accustomed to the sadness, because of the hope that has been given us. "There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind," and we still believe the best is yet to come.