Too much terror.

My last two posts have held the word terror.
You want to know one of the only things that doesn't terrify me?
Sleep.
Actually, sometimes it does.
Sometimes, I have terrible nightmares.
Especially lately.
Last night, I didn't!
I woke my brother up at 3:43 am and we went to see what Santa had left out.
That's one of the many joys of having a 6 year old brother. 
You get to pretend a little while longer and you keep saying it and start to believe it.
"SANTA IS REAL."
The thing is, there is someone so much greater than Santa.
His name is Jesus.
Even if He wasn't born December 25, He's still the reason for the season.
I think I lost sight of that for a while.
I bought gifts. I shook mine to see what it was.
I watched Christmas movies.
What finally got me into the "Christmas Spirit" was a long talk with my mom about the wonderfulness of Jesus.
The story behind my mom's religion is difficult to explain.
Here's a gist.
Jehovah's Witness.  Got pregnant.  Turned away.  Shunned by family.
Luckily, most of the shunning is done and my mom's over it and our family is cool.
The thing is, she still loves Jesus.
I see it in every thing she says & does.
She sacrifices every single day for our family.
This morning, before the gift unwrapping began, she asked everyone to say something we're thankful for.
Her's was: "I'm thankful to be in good health and not have the same conditions as the most of the people I see it everyday."
My 6-year old brothers was: "I'm thankful to have parents that our together."
It was so adorable.
I guess this post is kind of just a run on about how it took me until Christmas Day to get into the "spirit" 
Better late than never, right?
Oh, and my mom and I will be trying out churches to attend:)