Friday, December 11

Not quite scroogish, not quite jolly

Do you ever not feel like celebrating? I don't feel like celebrating. I, who loves the first snowfall and fills the house with Christmas music beginning in October. Who finds great joy in finding the perfectly imperfect tree to grace our living room and delights in every aspect of meditation the season brings.
We've enjoyed and not enjoyed an incredible mix of sweet and bitter this year and now I try to savor the good, the sweet and the lovely over the heartache.

The kids and I have made all sorts of delicious cookies and we've plunged ahead into the traditions so full of meaning and grace and hope. I am mindful of why we do each task, I cling to the hope represented in the dove cookie cutter I press into the cinnamon dough, to the vision of reunion signified in the blue stained glass cross I hang at each window.

I am surrounded by friends and children and a husband who love me. My blessing really do overflow. Our kiddos, especially, share with me their joy and anticipation and excitement. I watch them arrange and re-arrange the creche on a daily basis, playing out the story of Christ's birth. It is then that I cannot help but remember that His coming was in part so that pain would not linger eternally.

His birth signifies so much to me. This morning I read how God in all His fullness was pleased to live in Christ. To live in a created man! I read it and re-read it and read it again. All the power and glory of God squished and contented in his creation. If the Creator could be content to live in an insignificant part of his creation, surely I can find contentment in the difficulties of life, in the pain and heartache, the losses.

This year, remembering and celebrating Christ's birth takes on a particular poignancy. I know he wasn't born on December the 25th, that the date was stolen from pagans and redeemed in Christ's honor. But I think that anytime we are going through a valley, remembering and taking time to commemorate Christ's birth, death, and resurrection, brings to our remembrance the fullness of the hope we have in Him. This is why, even though I don't feel like doing all the joyous traditions of Christmas, I am. Some things take precedence over what we feel.


Diane said...

Agreed! love ya :O)

Unknown said...

I've been reading Isaiah a lot this past month and I am so amazed at God's love for us and that he chose to clothe himself with humanity, just to be rejected and murdered, in order that we might have eternal life. What a mighty, compassionate God we serve!

Anonymous said...

I know how you feel. Been there too many years in the past. The kiddos help distract the feelings and I hope that you will cling to that. You seem sorrowful so I pray for brightness for your soul this season.
Miss you and the family. Have a blessed Christmas.

Anonymous said...

I am sure you know it.. but I say it to myself all the time when things with regards to others do not work how we want them too.. But here it is again....

"God grant me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardships as a pathway to peace;
Taking, as he did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it;
Tursting that he will make all things right if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with him forever in the next.

Sue in NJ