~~MISSIONARY CHRISTMAS POEM~~

I got this sweet poem posted in a group I'm in on Facebook (Canada, Calgary Missionaries Moms and Dads)!  It made me cry and made me proud to be a missionary parent! Having Rachel serve has brought me so much happiness in just these past 6 months than I could have ever imagined.  To see the lives she is touching and watching her grow has been the best gift I have ever received this far in my life! Oh how I love all these sweet missionaries and pray for them daily!  Life is GOOD!!! :)

Get out the Kleenex! Also a small disclaimer, it should have included "daughters" but I guess that's kind of hard to rhyme. 󾍇 Merry Christmas to all missionaries serving everywhere. A Missionary Christmas (author unknown) I skipped the sales after Thanksgiving. The thrill just wasn't there. No pictures taken with Santa Claus, My decorating has no flair. His presents are shoes, shirts, and ties, two suits and socks...no fun. I've bought him all white clothes because... This year I'm giving Christ my son. I've spent more time in the temple, my testimony stirred. I've reread November's Ensign, felt strength come from His words. Our family prays more frequently. My tears are quick to run. Abraham seems closer because, This year I'm giving Christ my son. I wonder how those Lamanite mothers, gave their sons to war? Or how the pioneers chose Zion , their sacrifice was so much more. My loss will be his presence, I'll miss his smile a ton For two years we will pray for him, I'm giving Christ my son. I stare at his face when he's not looking. I memorize his eyes, their shine. He's always hungered for the part of him that makes his soul divine. The stories and lessons he always heard, his choice and mine are one. I'll put my faith in God's hand. This year,I'm giving Him my son. Past gifts have lost their glitter. I think I finally understand: Christ's birth should be celebrated by giving Him a hand. It's because I know Christ lives and reigns that all his packing's done. My gift has taken years to make, This year... I'm giving Christ my son. I know there's One who understands the sacrifice I'm making. Who knows the gift I willingly give, the toll it will be taking. For He has done it all before-- greater love, there could be none. For years ago God gave to me, His only begotten son. The hands I washed, the hands I held, the hands I taught to pray; Now knock on doors to find the ones who will listen to what he'll say. Because I know Christ needs him, until all the gathering's done, My gift has taken years to make. This year...I'm giving Christ my son. Two years have passed. December’s come. His suits are worn. He’s tired, but in his letters and his heart there’s an unmistakable fire for God’s own Son, His Work, His Plan. He has the testimony of a man who’s loved and served God’s children and seen the Savior’s hand. I sent him off with the gifts we gave: the socks, the suits, the prayers, the lessons he learned in our home, the warmth of knowing we cared. He’s coming back to the years ahead. His life’s mission is begun with a polished heart full of love and faith… God’s giving me my son.