First, we want to apologize for sending our Christmas card out digitally this year. We always swore we wouldn’t do it, and now here we are – but between the postage we spent last year and the fact that I’m only just now writing this on the 23rd, we don’t really have a choice.

I’ve been torn in writing this letter – should I start with how happy we are that 2009 is finally drawing to a close and what a tough, miserable year it’s been, or should I begin with our incredible gratitude to all of you and to God for the extraordinary year that we’ve been privileged to live through? It would seem that we were given the adjective “bittersweet” for just such a year as this.

We’ve accomplished much this year – Elijah turned 6 years old and learned officially how to read. He got a flashlight as a reward so that he can read in bed after the other kids are asleep. Ariana turned 4 and has developed into quite the little lady, dressing up and practicing her ballet. Jedidiah is now 2 years old and is proving to be the biggest character of the bunch – plus his crowning achievement this month, potty training. Jesi has been busy teaching the kids and working on our business. Dave left the corporate world in our nation’s worst economic downturn to try and establish a business. It’s been quite a year.

All things being equal, the year didn’t really start until May, when our fourth and final child was born. Ezekiel had a rough start to life with a full knot in his umbilical cord and oxygen deprivation during the birth. We’ve chronicled that whole part of our lives here on this blog and we won’t explain the details here – suffice to say, we have a near deaf infant with significant cerebral palsy. His condition after birth has quarantined us to our house for the winter, since any type of respiratory sickness would be devastating to his slowly strengthening lungs. I suppose if you look at it one way, we’re now spending most of our time alone and poor with a new special needs child as we struggle to get a new business off the ground. Plus a few other life-related things like cars breaking down, furnaces going out, minor surgeries and a fruitless hunting trip. Yes, we’re ready to say goodbye to 2009 and get going with 2010.

Fortunately, that’s not the end of our letter.

Beyond the obvious wish that Zeke didn’t have his impairments, we wouldn’t change any of the things we’ve had to go through for the last year. It’s incredibly painful and difficult to have God completely deconstruct your priorities and your focuses and rebuild them from the ground up, but once you’ve gotten through the tough part, you won’t want to go back for anything.

When Zeke was born and we began the new journey that our family will take, we took a good hard look at what mattered. What was important to us? What were we working for? Where were we going? Who were we? Why are we here?

We began to find that many of the anchors that we’d grown to trust weren’t the stalwart sanctuaries we thought they’d be. Did our mortgage matter? Our credit scores? Our clothing? How other people saw us and what their expectations were? While things like these are important and need to be considered, we realized that we had been sacrificing for them – sacrificing things that were much more important. We needed to change what we’d been holding on to.

There are a few moments in the course of your life that radically impact who you are and the direction that your life takes. Zeke was one of those moments for our family, although it’s been a 6 month long moment and it doesn’t seem to be over yet. He’s actually been quite a few moments, starting with the first moment when I was certain that we would lose him. I hope that I never come as close to losing one of my children as I did that day. Not only considering, but standing at the brink of burying one of your children will make you examine your priorities very carefully.

Then, as Zeke’s conditions have unfolded, we’ve been forced to do more than simply reevaluate our priorities – we’re being forced to act on them. How can we provide the best quality of life for not only Zeke, but for our whole family? The special attention that Zeke requires doesn’t diminish the equally important attention that our other children need.

Long story short – we’re incredibly thankful. We’re thankful that God spared our youngest – we’re thankful that he’s given us strength to keep going. We’re grateful to our friends for their understanding as we go through all this. We’re indebted to our family more than we could ever hope to repay. We’re thankful to Zeke for helping us understand why we’re here and inspiring our burning desire to succeed in a family business.

Most of all, we’re thankful to God for sending Jesus to die on our behalf. Just like Zeke, His story doesn’t end there – his birth, his death, even his resurrection aren’t the point. Our relationship with God and Christ; doing his work and seeking his glory – that is the point. Zeke’s injury and his subsequent capabilities aren’t the point – bringing us together as a family no matter what the circumstances, no matter what the troubles, no matter what the road we have to tread. We’re a family – more now than ever before.

And in despair I bowed my head: “There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.

Then rang the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Merry Christmas and God Bless and Good Will to you all!

-Dave, Jesi, Eli, Ari, Jed & Baby Zekers