The holidays have arrived, and with them all the beautiful, tantalizing temptations. Nostalgia fueled dreams fill the senses as I drive through my neighborhood and think of years gone by. For there is nothing I love more at this time of year than holiday lights, Christmas cookies and gifts. Alas, I still view Christmas through the eyes of a child which is, I suppose, how we all view it–for better or for worse.
I’ll never be as good at creating the Christmas experience as my mother is. And that is what it’s all about, right? It’s our responsibility as parents or spouses to create (or top) the experience our parents created for us. Even if we didn’t have a wonderful childhood experience around the holidays, we work overtime to give that to our friends and families.
The Christmas Eve service at church was one experience that was very powerful for me as a child. We would sing Christmas carols and remember the birth of Jesus. That candlelight service inspired hopes and wishes that filled my young heart with wonder. But that experience was less about Jesus and more about what came after the service. We would drive around and look at lights on houses and then have cookies before bed. To this day, I’m uncomfortable not eating cookies at the holidays. And more than that, I still slip into bed on December 24 with the knowledge that Christmas morning brings candy and toys. It still inspires a kind of jittery joy that makes my heart rattle with excitement.
But the thing so many people don’t talk about around the holidays is the pressure to make everything perfect. The house needs to be decorated, food needs to be prepared, and cookies and pies suck untold hours from the lives of those making them. Every year I spend days and weeks doing things to make this perfect experience and on December 26th, I unravel it all back into dusty cardboard boxes and plastic tubs while everyone withdraws with their “spoil” and goes back to their regular lives. All the “Christmas magic” dissipates in a blink. Or if I could be so crude, Jesus takes off his Santa hat and is relegated to the role of “guy in blue and white robe with a manly, manicured mane.”
There’s a lot to be said about the beauty of traditions, but this blog is not that. Candidly, a few days ago I found myself wishing I could fast-forward to December 26th. Why? Because it’s all so darn overwhelming. I don’t enjoy decorating, shopping makes me so anxious I may as well break out in hives, and I get the sweats when I even think about having to bake cookies I shouldn’t eat (but always do). I make so many sacrifices for my family–to make their holidays lovely–which is good, but it usually ends up with me getting physically sick right as January hits from the sheer exhaustion of it all. I’ve tried minimizing, shopping early, not decorating, or just plain begging my family to skip Christmas (which they never agree to). And here we are, December 8th. And the “heat” is on!
The “heat” is the pressure of creating a mood. It comes from a commercially minded culture hell bent on getting their fair share of my wallet. This chafes me. The nonstop marketing, selling and buying, and pretending some of us aren’t depressed, anxious and overwrought with stress. Meanwhile, the real Jesus is probably shaking His head from His glorious, glittering throne.
Because Christmas is not a mood, or a feeling, or a perfectly wrapped present next to a fake tree. Christmas is the moment we should remember when God entered the world and became part of the story. His life and ministry are REAL hope and cheer. He is a God who loves people with food addiction, depression and anxiety. He sees our brokenness and childhood trauma. He takes our shame and all the scorn we heap at him by pretending there’s a fat man in a red suit throwing gifts down chimneys. As if that’s real joy! He is the author of life and has made a way for us to live with Him for all eternity in paradise. It’s the great, good, glorious news–the best news humanity has ever received! Immanuel. God with us. Jesus is the gift for a sin saturated society. He is the cure for our deceitful hearts. Because everything I think I love about the holidays is really all just carefully crafted narratives with nonsense origins. The true story is God-made-flesh, reaching out a holy hand to humanity with a love so pure we can’t even begin to imagine how beautiful it really is. The stories handed down from generation to generation are true. We are loved. We are safe in His arms. Nothing can separate us from this love in Jesus Christ. Incredible.
So today, if you are like me, dreading the next few weeks and filled with fear and worry–fret not. Close your eyes and breathe in the beauty that is our Lord and Savior. No matter how big or small your holiday meals, no matter if you decorate or even clean, regardless of your cookies or crafts or shopping–He is Lord! Celebrate the way you feel led and trust that He is who He said He is.
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