Christmas Call

We weren't sure if Caleb would be able to call home from the MTC; we had been told it to plan on it. Turns out, we were given a 30 minute call window. It was so great to hear his voice, and I bawled like a baby afterwords. 

We miss him so much and pray for peace and happiness for him. The MTC has been such a struggle, but he is almost ready to fly outta here and begin his service in New York. 

 

 

 

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

Soon after Elder Figgins entered the MTC, I set my phone to ring church bells when an email from Caleb comes through. 

This snowy Christmas morning we unexpectedly heard the bells! It was a Christmas greeting from my boy. This small gesture made my day. 

"Well can't you see that it's just [snowing]? There ain't no need to go outside" - banana pancakes,  Jack Johnson.  

Marry Christmas!!:) I love you! 

 

Christmas Eve Tradition

We have an unusual Christmas Eve tradition in the Figgins family. Grandpa gives his usual toast of  "wise me still seek him" then we all give each other cheers and good wishes. After drinking down our sparkling 

Martinellis, we throw our glasses into the fireplace. This year I got to throw two glasses; one for me and one for Elder Figgins. Sure miss my boy, but am glad he is where he is. 

 

 

A Missionary Christmas

A MISSIONARY CHRISTMAS

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 re-read 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. 

Author Unknown