Around midnight on Christmas Eve our house gets very quiet. By then, our boys are in bed, and it is time to lock the doors and turn out the lights. That’s when I pause for just a minute to listen to the silence.
The lights on the tree don’t make a sound. All the gifts are wrapped, the food is prepared, the stores are all closed, and a few coals are still glowing in the fireplace—Christmas has arrived.
Thoughts of faith, hope, and love—our family, the past, and our future—all linger like the fragrance of scented candles. That’s usually when I think to myself “If it wasn’t so late, I could really enjoy this peaceful time.”
I’m sure you can relate to the scene that I’ve just painted, but let me tell you about another one you’ve never seen.
On the final day of work before Christmas, I always make a point to be the last person to leave the Family Council office. After everyone has gone and I’m there alone in the quiet, I look around and think to myself, “Well, we made it another year.” This year marks 22 times I’ve done this, and those simple words mean so much more than I can say.
Standing there alone in the office, I think about all the people across Arkansas who support our work, and I feel very small and undeserving, but deeply grateful at the same time. When I look at the desks, phones, files, and equipment, I think about all the good that has been done. I remember stacks of petitions for the Marriage Amendment, volumes of proposed legislation when we were lobbying, and thousands of voter’s guides piled to the ceiling of the front office.
I think about all the people who have worked here, most for a lot less than they could earn elsewhere. I think about the 2,500 volunteers who helped us pass the Adoption and Foster Care Act. I think about the times I’ve called for “all hands on deck” so the entire staff could battle some crisis. This year, I especially think about the outpouring of support last September, when I didn’t know if we would have enough money to meet payroll.
It would take an entire book for me to tell you how I feel about Family Council, our work, our mission, and our calling from God. But for now, please know and understand that with each passing year, the final thoughts on my mind as I lock the office door and head home for Christmas are thoughts of gratitude to you and all our friends, and that walking away, I whisper this reminder, “It is all by the grace of God.”
Merry Christmas to you and your family from all of us at Family Council!
