To be honest, I’m scared. Yes, I’m supposed to rely on God, but it just seems I have too much on my shoulders to share with anybody else. The business—the business. I sometimes wish that I could have had an easier path. I know that you signed up for so much better than this. You might say you signed up for me, but I haven’t given you any of me lately.

I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out what to get you for Christmas. But it’s stupid. I have a chance to give you gifts every day. Small, simple gifts. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. Sometimes it’s like I’m the one with the hormones and the twins inside of me. One can be called Worry. The other Work. Nice twins.

Kevin looked at the last line and thought about deleting it, then continued.

I sometimes fear that I’m going to wake up and find that I worked so hard for so long on what? For what? That I’ve missed all these gifts that have been waiting for me at my bedside. You and your grace. You and beauty.

You.

I can still do something about this. I can still change. I can still be the kind of person—the kind of husband—you need me to be.

Maybe. Hopefully.

This is my Christmas gift to you. Not the only one. But perhaps the most important. It’s this promise.

I promise I’m going to try. Every day from here on out.

Okay?

I love you.

K

He saved the document but didn’t print it out.

This time when he stood up, he left the office.

Kevin wasn’t sure he’d give it to Jenny. He’d think about it.

Maybe he would later.

Maybe he wouldn’t at all.

My Little One

That’s the last time I’m going to rely on others. For anything.

Lynn barely glanced at the woman facing her in the old, scuffed-up mirror. She’d just finished brushing her teeth quietly as the kids still slept. She didn’t need to examine the picture because she knew it too well. She felt the familiar bite again—the anger, the bitterness, the whys that followed her around.

She’d woken up realizing that today was December 23. After three more tries with the Salvation Army, Lynn had realized that Thomas wasn’t getting his presents. Sometimes these things happened. They said that she could pick up the Forgotten Angel gifts but the whole situation just angered her. She didn’t want consolation prizes. She wanted to give Thomas the gifts he’d asked for.

She had a couple hours this early morning to try to figure out something to get him. Then she had a couple of interviews that probably weren’t going to amount to anything.

But really.

I mean, really, God? Really?

She didn’t want or need anything, but for the love of all that was right—the kids deserved something. Anything.

Throw us a bone, will You?