It Came Upon A Midnight Clear...December 15
Though it's taken a few years we have scaled down the glitzy “packaging” of our family's Christmas. What began out of financial necessity, paring down the gifts and the spending, became more of a change of heart.
About this time every year, halfway through December, I find myself in a rush. A rush to get gifts, to decorate, to send those cards (I only get it together and send those about every 3 years) and bake every single flipping treat my family might creatively imagine and request. Peppermint bark, gingerbread men, sugar cookies… along with ambitious things I come up with all on my own to try like traditional Christmas pudding.
I have this internal pressure that makes me a grumpy ticking time bomb. I'm ready to snap at any moment and ingesting copious amounts of coffee and Dr. Pepper just to keep it together (cue crazy eyes).
I pull out the Christmas decorations and almost immediately begin to get frustrated as I see how little of the stash survived last Christmas, how few sentimental ornaments and doo dads are still in one piece. Then there's the 3 pairs of little hands that tug and pull on every string of lights and argue over each breakable decorative item and where it should be placed as they play a tense game of tug of war hollering selfishly at each other their screechy little voices over powering my Bing Crosby Christmas music I foolishly thought might make the mood.
Then there's the token gifts for people I truly appreciate and would feel terrible if they didn't receive a little reminder from my family of their importance in our lives; our gratefulness for their contribution. I balk as I mentally add up not only the numerous times I spent “just five dollars” on "little somethings" for each teacher and secret Santa and the bows, the gift tags and the effort to get them where they need to be. So many times it seems no matter how I prepare or for how long there's always someone or something I had forgotten about. It makes me feel like an idiot, being a well-organized prepared individual is a point of pride for me, I feel remorse when I so often miss the mark and ooooh I so very often miss the mark.
Overall the season is joyful and fun; I’m not your Ebenezer. I just have my moments when I just feel the pressure and need to come up for air.
Since we have made the effort to change our Christmas, opting for simplicity and celebration of Jesus, this annual self-deprecation and assorted moments of panic have become reminders.
Instead of being the moment in December when I get my act together and regardless of price, amount of exhaustive effort or even our current circumstances I put out my Christmas “A” game it has become a moment to take pause and a time of thoughtfulness that really does lend itself to quieting a heart and being still before God.
I love our little traditions and we "do Santa". We drive around to look at Christmas lights, drink hot cocoa, watch the cheesy Christmas flicks, all that stuff. Daddy puts the star on the tree and we leave out cookies and milk on Christmas Eve.
What grounds us, what I pray my children see and know deep down in their tender and innocent little hearts is that we're celebrating the physical birth of our Lord and Savior, the Son of God and this is the mightiest and most important of all the things!
I never claim to be a bible scholar. Let me just give you that disclaimer. This little essay is simply my opinion and what I pray over in regards to this season in my life and in the year.
Jesus was born in horrible circumstances. His mother, though chosen by God, was most likely gossiped about by all sorts of people behind her back. Even relatives may have looked down on her not quite fully believing her whole Immaculate Conception story. She probably entered many a suddenly hushed room. I’m sure, being a flawed human being, she probably spent some time shaking off the world’s view of her and instead prayed for strength and reminded herself she was chosen by God and had a very special job in His Kingdom.
Joseph's life too suddenly took some incredible turns. I don't know of one single man that would not experience multiple moments of fight or flight if they were Joseph followed by intense prayer sessions.
Yet we all sort of act like they were totally cool and calm with it all. I’m sure they had God given strength and wisdom and heavenly messengers that got them through but there had to of been lots of freak outs followed by solid, heart wrenching soul searching prayer. They were people, after all.
Within months of this great life altering news they had to pick up everything and just go. They had to go a totally different city and community with no soft place to lay their heads, yeah that Son of the Most High God growing in Mary's belly, that's right. “Go now, ya’ll. We’ll have to tell you the rest of the plan later…”
They had no place to stay.
You've seen the nativity scenes. There are all sorts of arrangements and styles. Real actors, carved wooden ones, lighted ones, I think there's even a veggie tales one you can buy.
In these serene scenes everyone, from the happy couple, the precious Babe to the shepherd and wise men are gathered around, all beaming and illuminated as if they aren't standing in a barn surrounded by animal waste and feed. They are situated as if everyone's life there at that Christmas party is absolutely perfect, all grins and giggles, as if now there will be no hardship, no trials. It’s as if they already know what we know, as if they've been blessed with a post-dated bible with insight into their salvation. Now, I know they had Prophesy and I believe others that were possibly less educated just knew they were witnessing the real deal. Some followed that star, a sign in the heavens. They were not happy because now all was perfect, the story wasn't over yet.
They knew, though. They knew that even in those meager, humble if not filthy circumstances Christ our King was born as one of us. He came into this world as lowly as possible and into surroundings rife with stress and danger.
Even in the years our family Christmas has found us amidst some struggle or strife, I've got a good life. When I catch myself thinking about how my decorations aren't quite right or how maybe we didn't have time to go to some Christmas play or musical performance this year, when I feel some twinge of guilt or sadness, I have to give myself a reality check. That is truly not what this is about. We are celebrating Jesus Christ. We are celebrating the fact that God gave us this amazing gift because he loves us! When we find ourselves struggling or in terrible circumstances or maybe just focusing in on the wrong things at the wrong time we need to remember how little that matters. Our most precious, meaningful gift we could have ever been given was wrapped in swaddling clothes not expensive sparkly wrapping paper and delivered by an average young woman in a barn.
When I think of that, the pressure of the season instantly fades and there I am, at Jesus' feet, my heart at peace and my mind still and quiet. There is no finer gift and that is something big, something worth celebrating and sharing.
So go. Go to the parties, wrap the gifts, plan matching family sets of PJs and sit by the tree reading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. Remember though, even centuries of complicated and developed traditions pale aside the true gift of Christmas.
Be joyful and share it. God will give you strength in your journey, and guidance. Just accept the gift, the gift that should make you so overwhelmingly joyful you have to meet Him, you have to spread the news and you have to plant your feet on the path God has set before you. If you don’t need that message today, good for you. You’re one step ahead of me. As for me, It’s December 15th and it’s time.
(The above picture was taken last Christmas Eve at night, over Lake Mineral Wells)
