Yesterday I was reflecting that I may be the most sentimental person in the world, Lord. And how important each item in my home is to me—or rather I reflected upon the significance of each piece of furniture in this, our Flintstone home. And I can only name two pieces of furniture, the wicker rocking chairs I purchased on sale at Ace Hardware, that I bought at full price. (Well, actually, I just admitted that even those were on sale!) But most of the furniture in our home came from family or consignment stores. And I like it that way. A lot.

I walk around this home, this gift to us, and everything holds a story of Your provision, Lord, and of the love of family and those who have passed on and so, by default, literally passed on their earthly goods to us.

It hits extra hard this Christmas, Lord, as it’s the first without Daddy. All the memories of years and decades past of Christmases at Nancy Creek, with Mom welcoming family and friends at parties and Daddy purchasing the latest fancy gadget which we’d unwrap on Christmas morn. Of me waking early to decorate the horses’ stalls with gifts and place apples and carrots in their stockings.

And now, those memories are here beside me—the felt stocking Mom made me that now hangs beside me in the sunroom, three angels, Merry Christmas, and Elizabeth lovingly glued into place.

The cross-stitched banner ‘The Goldsmiths’ hangs across the way in between the picture windows and ‘Chez Les Musser’ beside it. For 30+ years ‘The Goldsmiths’ hung in Mom and Dad’s foyer at Christmastime, welcoming all. I stitched it in France as a sleep-deprived young mom, and sent it home with love. I was always making gifts and little photo books that I could ship home inexpensively for family.

Then a few years later, I stitched one for our home in France.

The ornaments also tell stories, of course. The oldest ones made by Paul and me when we were mere kiddos.

And then all those precious ornaments gathered year by year for Chris at various places we traveled around the world. This will be the last year I have all of his ornaments, hanging on the small ‘ChrisMus Christmas tree=)’, the one that sits atop the little kids table and is adorned with his ornaments and those our grandkids have made for us. Next year Chris and Ashlee will have these ornaments to their little home in Washington D.C., and I will sob with delight at their sweet love and with sentimental heartache.

Andrew’s ornaments left 12 years ago when he married Lacy. Now when we’re at their house, the joy wells up when I see them, some in slightly used condition, hanging on their tree.

The wooden bird ornament is from Berea, KY circa 1994 and the little white bunny with the pink ribbon was the first ornament I bought for Andrew, circa 1988. Yes, a pink ribbon. We were starving seminary students and I distinctly remember this was the only ornament I could afford!

I smile at the Advent calendar that Mom sent us our first Christmas in France in 1989. Just this morning, Jesse, who spent the night with us, added the Velcro ornaments for December 9-13. The other grands had added 1-8 when they spent the night last week.

Our favorite Christmas books sit by Paul’s chair, where he meets with You every morning, Lord, and one of our many Christmas CDs plays on the CD player that was installed in our kitchen by the previous owners and was a wink to remind me of the way You love to provide for me, not only my needs, but my wants—music in the kitchen as I cook.

Now, of course, I can play music on my phone anywhere, but I love to get out the old CDs and put them in the player and sink back into memories and gratitude and joy.

Mamaw’s angels sit by the fireplace and her angels tapestry blinks across the room with Nadja’s angel (handmade when she was about 5) perched atop.

New to our décor this year are red cardinals. You know, Lord, how meaningful they were to me all during Daddy’s illness and after he passed away. How the real red cardinal greeted us noisily banging into the picture window at Nancy Creek multiple times a day as we grieved. He kept reminding me that You are with me and that You are caring for my loved ones who have gone before us.

My sweet daughter-in-law sent me a red cardinal ornament at the beginning of Advent to remind me of this. And when I brought out the wreath I had purchased last year, I gasped to see that there was a red cardinal on it. I had forgotten!

So many memories, Lord, so much goodness that You remind me of during Advent as I laugh and cry and remember. So many gifts of sentimentality surrounding me.

And of course, above and beyond my sentimentality at Advent, is the Greatest Gift, the One You gave, Baby Jesus, Your Son, the Word made flesh. Nothing compares to this indescribable gift. I feel You all around me and in me, reminding me of the wonder of Your love, Your gift.

And I think You must smile at my little ole sentimental heart which loves to surround myself and my loved ones and my home with memories.

ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France (and sometimes at her childhood desk in Flintstone, Georgia). Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and her blog, Letters to the Lord.