Bah Humbug

Don’t really know what I’m supposed to talk about today, but I gotta start somewhere...

I guess something that’s been on my mind this holiday season is what Christmas really means to me personally.  Of course we all know what it’s supposed to mean to us, but I’m just gonna lay it out there: I’m definitely guilty of forgetting why we even have a reason to celebrate Christmas. 

I think Christmas means something different for me every year.  For my first Christmas ever, it was about spending most of the time in the hospital with a crazy fever and an ear infection that I’m sure haunted my parents (and my sweet Mammaw) for a while afterward.  For my tenth Christmas, I was at the height of my waking-up-a-seven-so-I-could-unwrap-presents stage.  That year, it was all about Polly Pocket and that Polly Pocket town I just couldn’t live without.  So stinkin’ cool.  I think I also received a play toolbox that year. Multi-talented, obviously.

            When I was sixteen, Christmas was about being the only person over 8 to take part in the narrated Christmas story at church on Christmas Eve.  I don’t think my face returned to its normal color for at least a week.

            My first Christmas back from SMU was about trying to find out where the girl was who left for Dallas in August.  She wasn’t anywhere at the ranch…I looked around the whole break. 

            Each time I’ve come home for Christmas, I get closer to understanding why people always told me the season wasn’t about the presents or the food or the parties.  My family and most importantly, my salvation, have become infinitely more important to me.  I finally understand why entire families forego their Christmas presents and spend that money on the charity of their choice.  Heck, it’s a lot easier than standing in line, listening to the multiple complaints about how miserable Christmas has made someone. 

            Christmas is a double-edged sword.  In one moment, we’re filled with the “Christmas spirit” that causes us to pay for that stranger’s purchase or donate to a charity instead of asking for personal gifts.  The next, we’re shoving people out of our way, kicking and screaming, and cussing at old ladies just to get to the front of the line to buy that perfect gift.  Somethin’ ain’t right!

            Now I understand my family’s weird.  We all get along uncommonly well.  I don’t dread going home because I know I’m going home to open arms and unconditional love: things most people won’t deny and are dying to get for Christmas.  That’s where I think a lot of our obsession with Christmas comes from.  It’s like this season is the only chance we get, once in a year, to buy others’ love.  If we can just get that perfect gift, that number one item on everyone’s list, they will love us and Christmas will be perfect.  That, y’all, is false hope.

            Even if you absolutely hate going home for Christmas because that place is incredibly broken and you leave feeling worse than you did when you arrived, you and I have something in common.  There is one person who can love us more than any amount of people can hurt us.  This verse has become near and dear to my heart over the semester:  “They shall build up the ancient ruins;/they shall raise up the former devastations;/they shall repair the ruined cities,/the devastations of many generations.”  That comes from Isaiah 61:4.  I am so comforted because like most everyone in this world, my heart’s been broken in one way or another.   What this verse means is that even if there are years upon years of devastation, destruction, and unhappiness in your life, God will bind up that hurt.  He doesn’t care how much money you spend on your husband or even how much you’re willing to donate to charity.  He heals. He saves.  And all we have to do is have faith. 

            When you open up those presents, by all means, be grateful! Enjoy!  But remember those rewards are temporary.  Blood, sweat and tears endured obtaining those presents are not worth the time and effort we can put into loving others, especially our families around Christmas.  I can only remember a few really significant toys and gifts I’ve received over the years, but I’ll always remember having my first cup of eggnog at Ghee and Gheegee’s, watching Pappaw put on his Santa hat for the last time and playing Amazing Grace with my daddy while Mammaw and Auntie Gini (surprise surprise) cried their eyes out.  That’s why Christmas isn’t about gifts.  Everyone, no matter how rich or how poor, is loved and we celebrate that love being born once a year.  Heck, with that kind of gift, I feel like I should celebrate all year long!  I love you so much and I hope your holiday is filled with joy!