I have to say I'm still praising the Lord for sparing the gifts I made for my family. Let me tell you the story:
I spent the better part of spring and summer researching online, going through momma's old notes and bugging people about family tree stuff. I might have spend a thousand hours or more on research, (and will do more) and then more on arranging these family tree books for my family using the ancestry software. I bought a book binder, book blanks and eventually ran out of good paper and even had to get a new printer. I worked my butt off, let me tell you. Each book had something like 250 hours in each of them of research, arrangement, printing and assembly. I made custom decals for these books, I had a vellum cover page, it was all put together with love... When I decided to wrap them, I looked around our apartment and saw some postal paper I had not used up. You know the kind, that's thick, tape won't stick to it easily, and it has this waxy finish inside. I had this nagging feeling that I should use this paper, just in case dad's dog Roxy were to have an accident. So I bought red twine, I made old fashioned gift tags with grommets to complete the look, and wa-la, these were the prettiest gifts I'd wrapped in a while. I even found another roll of the paper in storage that I had bought on a whim years and years ago. There was a whole lot of love in these gifts and even in how I wrapped them (key up the Sound of Music "these are a few of my favorite things").
I kept having this nagging feeling that I should put them in a giant plastic ziploc bag. But I didnt. I just put them high up on the mantle at Dad's, safely away from the dog and the tree water. We even took them there early so I wouldn't forget them.
It rained and rained and rained leading up to Christmas Eve. I made my customary Ark building jokes, and thought nothing of the rain. Well I thought nothing of it past complaining that this year's extra rain had cost me money because dried fruit and pecans were so high, I, as usual, digress.
Christmas Eve I saw my sisters whispering off in the corner and looking at me. I knew they were talking about me, but figured I'd said or done something to make someone mad, and even told Don so. It's been a hard Christmas for me this year, and I was feeling pretty miserable. The highlight of the evening was my Aunt getting the book I made her, and seeing every one look at it (well that and the wino card I gave dad, but you have to ask him about that). So why did this book make my sisters seem so uncomfortable? I figured it was just hard to see those that had gone before us.
Then Christmas morning we are opening presents. I noticed Erin's gift had red streaks all over it. I knew that it must have gotten damp but until dad announced I made a mistake in his book, I didn't know what had happened. (I'm heartbroken over the mistakes by the way) Anyhow, they explained:
The chimney at dad's leaked, and they had moved the gifts to rest atop another stack of gifts. The family tree books had been soaked, one even rested in a puddle. My sisters were discussing it at my aunts Christmas gathering and trying to decide if they should tell me or wait and see if the gifts were ok. They elected not to worry me, and waited to see if they were alright. They, Thank God, were. The postal paper I used had saved the books from destruction. That nagging feeling that they needed to be protected from dad's crazy dog saved them from ruin. God knew, and pushed that idea that I HAD to wrap them in that postal paper. God knew in 2005 when I bought that paper on clearance at the post office for 35 cents that I'd need exactly that paper later on to save a special work for my family. God knew, and I, happy to find things on clearance, bought the stuff up years in advance, even before I knew I needed it for anything specific. That nagging feeling about that special wrapping job was God pushing me to protect that work, preventing my hear from breaking, and ensuring my family had a special book that was a combination of mom's years of research and my picking up the torch after she was gone.
God is SO good! Sometimes you do things that are small things, like buying postal paper and never throwing it away after two moves and 8 years, and those small things add up to something really huge later on. Sometimes you make a small decision that has a HUGE effect on something you never even imagined, like water resistant paper on gifts for the family. Sometimes, things are so amazing the only explanation is that God was keeping you (or in this case these books) safe. Sometimes God appears in something and you can look back and see his hands on it from the very start.
So that's our Christmas Story this year. I listened to that little voice, and looking back I can see it was the divine hand of the Almighty playing a huge part in something I hadn't even thought of. It was amazing, and it renewed my belief that God does indeed care about the small stuff.
So I'm still praising God for this miracle, and wanted to share a little story about it with you.
