I’m not strong enough to ignore Christmas
As I shared yesterday, this has been a rough week for my little heart. I’d far rather be writing about sparkles and eggnog and tidings of comfort and joy then the ills of the world or the trials of telling the truth. I’m opinionated and not afraid of a fight, but I dislike this constant punchiness. Plus, I want Christmas to be sacred and warm and safe, and instead, I keep hearing grousing about the Christmas season in general. It seems that many people are already tired of Christmas and the busyness that comes with it, and just want their lives, calendars and checkbooks to return to normal.
I understand some amount of frazzle over the holidays, but I had a realization this week: it’s not just that I love Christmas – I’m not strong enough to do without it.
I need Christmas. I need a time of year that forces me to marvel at the wonder of a generous God who deigned to insert Himself into human history. I need reminders of love and joy, a time when hugs are worth more than deadlines and generosity is celebrated and reciprocated.
My spirit is short on peace and long on worry – I often feel antagonized, disappointed and misunderstood, especially in the tricky business of publishing. But at Christmas, I’m reminded that I am loved and blessed that I may love and bless. We are all hard to love, but Christmas makes it easier, because of the example of a loving God who willingly subjected himself to all the trials, disappointments, sorrows and struggles of human life.
When I hear Christmas carols, I’m reminded that I’m not alone. As the good old song says: “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, With peace on earth, good will to men.”
My giddy and overwhelming love of Christmastime might seem simple and silly to many, but for me it is a much-needed reminder. I’m not strong enough to go years without a season to stop and know that I am loved – without an excuse to open my Scrooge-y heart. So, like Scrooge, I will “keep Christmas well”, for the process of my own redemption as much as for the good of my fellow man.
I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
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 pealed 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.”