Santa. God. Faith.

Santa. God. Faith.

     Adelyn, this Christmas season, has learned that there is a magical man named, Santa Claus. She loves Christmas. And it's amazing to watch her love of everything Christmas grow each day. Her favorite Christmas activities include opening her "chocolate calendar," watching Christmas cartoons, singing Christmas carols, and nightly walks to see the Christmas lights. We love walking at night. So peaceful. No traffic sounds. Normally, we are the only ones out. We walk around our whole neighborhood, stopping at each house that has decorated for Christmas. Her favorite house, I think, has two reindeer in their yard. She always points them out. I love her excited face. She's so amazing and sweet. When we talk about Santa, she always says, "Santa gon bring the toys!" And she kind of has this little southern accent going on lately. We have no idea where it comes from, but it's there. We hear it in words like toy, mouse, help. Toys becomes toe-ays. Mouse becomes may-ouse. Help becomes hey-lp. She's hilarious. I keep asking myself, do I talk this way too, and just not realize it?

     We have had such a lovely little Christmas season so far. Every day is an adventure. Every day a new Christmas discovery. Every day a new Christmas revelation. Tobin loves Christmas trees. He stares at them in wonder. He makes the sweetest face when he's looking at them. His lips form an "O." And his eyes are wide with amazement. Adelyn loves to hear about Christmas. She especially loves to hear stories about Santa and his giant bag of toys. It has been a sweet season.

     At the same time, it has been sad, hasn't it? Not for my family in particular, but for so many others. What happened in Newtown is just the worst nightmare any parent can imagine. I've lost a child. I know what it feels like to have held your child, and then to not be able to hold them anymore. I only got to be with my girl for 12 hours or so. Those parents had their children for years. And years. Memories upon memories. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain of having your child--that you have had since day one for multiple years--ripped from your arms by such violence.

    I've always believed in God. But it's interesting that losing River made my faith in God stronger. My therapist asked me that one day. With a smile on her face. She said, "your faith in God is bigger than it ever was, isn't it?" And the answer was, yes. It is. Same goes for a friend who lost her baby recently. We have been emailing back and forth. And she mentioned the same thing. How losing her baby made her faith in God even stronger. I cannot explain this. I have no idea why bad things happen. And by that token, why bad things happen, and our faith in God grows.

     I remember watching this show about Santa when I was a kid. It was called something like, "Is Santa really real?" I watched it with my Dad. It was a show meant for kids, of course. But it was done kind of, documentary style. Like one might watch a documentary on Bigfoot. Little snippets of "real" video footage of Santa Claus. Stomping around many a house. Tugging his big red bag of toys. I was too old to believe in Santa anymore. I had long known the secret. But watching that show made me question. My Dad would look over at me, wide-eyed, with every piece of new video evidence that Santa was in fact, real. I remember asking him what he thought. He replied with, "I don't know. Maybe he is real." And I remember thinking, you know what, maybe he is.

     Last Christmas season was when I started this blog. To help me cope with the loss of my daughter. This Christmas, I am celebrating our season with our new baby boy. He was born on the same day that my friend lost her baby. I have no idea the significance of this, but it always strikes me. It has been a good Christmas season for our little family. Full of wonder and excitement and happiness. But, for others, it has and will continue to be, their worst nightmare. A living hell.

     Adelyn believes in Santa. She has faith that he will come on Christmas. That he will bring her toys from his big red bag. I know Santa isn't real. But her faith in the unseen is moving. I believe in God. Maybe some would say that my faith in God is like Adelyn's faith in Santa. Nothing more than fantasy. He is just a legend.  And that I will grow up one day to find that my faith in God was just a trick.

     Some may say that. And, honestly, I would understand them. This world, the things that happen in it, the horror of what happened in Newtown...I can't make sense of it. No one can. But I do know this: good things happen too. Horrible, unspeakable things happen. But, so do amazing things. So do miracles. They happen. I believe that if you look for God, even in the midst of devastation, you will find evidence that he is there, and that he is good. I know this because I have experienced it. Losing River. We suffered a massive loss. Devastation. And in the midst of that...there were miracles. Like the butterfly that landed on my arm. And stayed there for a bit. Opening and closing its magnificent wings. The way it fluttered around about me before it flew away. Seeing butterflies every time I stepped outside for weeks after she passed. The butterfly in her footprint that my sister discovered the day of her memorial service on October 15, 2011. Giving birth to my son exactly one year later on October 15, 2012.

     Having faith in God is much like Adelyn's having faith in Santa. Because you must have faith like a child. It doesn't make sense. It isn't logical. There will be those who say, it's just a trick. There is no Santa. There is no God. How can Santa be real? How can God be real?

     That's faith.

See the butterfly? Left foot, on the right side of her heel? This picture is a bit fuzzy, but it's there.