It’s sunny and beautiful in the Atlantic community as I write. I walked outside today, and while the cold air stung my skin, the sun warmed my face and blue sky painted the horizon. How can you beat that?
You know, I keep forgetting it’s the Christmas season. I don’t have my Christmas tree up. I haven’t set one decoration out.
Not that I haven’t experienced signs that it’s Christmastime. I’ve played “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus,” “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” and “Lo, How A Rose E’er Blooming” in church. I’ve taught the stories of Gabriel announcing John the Baptist’s and Jesus’ conception, and of Jesus’ birth in Sunday school. I see lights on people’s houses, hear Christmas music in stores, even bought presents for my kids, but it doesn’t feel like Christmas to me.
In some respects, I’m glad. I’m thankful I can walk outside. Yeah, snow is pretty, but it’s a bummer to ride an exercise bike in a gloomy basement instead of walking outside in the sunshine on snowy days.
I don’t have much money for Christmas this year and had to drastically cut back on who I’m buying presents for. I think that’s part of it. I don’t feel the excitement of giving special gifts. Overspending stresses me out; spending money at all stresses me out. Not that I’m a Scrooge; I just live on a tight budget.
And now it’s confession time. Even though I’m a Christian, even though I follow Jesus passionately, Christmas is a day—and let’s be honest here—about giving and receiving gifts, eating decadent food, listening to beautiful music, and succumbing to the excitement that surrounds the day.
I always read Luke 2 on Christmas morning and my Dad reads it to us before we open presents at Mom and Dad’s house. Even so, I don’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about the Christ Child on his birthday. Maybe because things are different this year, I will. Maybe simply celebrating Jesus’ birth without giving or receiving many gifts will be a good experience. Maybe Christmas will truly feel like a holy day.
I’ll put my tree up eventually. I’ll set out the Pepto Bismol-pink Nativity set my daughter painted as a five-year-old in Sunday School. I’ll get the Kneeling Santa Claus out and remember that St. Nicholas bowed his knee to Baby Jesus.
If your life, like mine, is different this year than in Christmases past, maybe we’ll both discover that celebrating Christmas differently isn’t a bad thing. Maybe it’ll be liberating. I guess we’ll find out.
I wish you all God’s blessings this week.