Christmas Sunday.

I feel blessed to be sitting at the table with Ethan, to have spent the last week with him. The days still go by quickly, only I am much more relaxed most of the time. I think about work less and less and less, although my thoughts still drift there, mostly when I am in bed alone, trying to fall asleep.
I am re-reading a book on biblical discipline and it is so good. I have already seen tiny fruit, like the size of a berry. I realize one of the reasons I tend to hate disciplining Ethan is because I have always tended to hate discipline in my own life. The revelation is this: I am getting just as much "training" when I correct Ethan as he is. Everything I am trying to teach him, I need to learn; the only way I can effectively teach him to obey, is if I am seeking obedience in my own life. Every time he needs correcting it's a reminder of my own need. Without remembering a loving Father, this gets wearisome.
All the more reason to focus on the God-child born in a manger, that "tiny heart whose blood will save us".