Dear Christmas

Dear Christmas,

It's not you. It's me. I'm looking for something or someone to blame but I'm not having much luck. I have considered the late Thanksgiving, the awful rain and gray skies from the past two months, and overall gray-ness that has permeated the entire second half of 2013... it could be any or all of the above. But no matter the root, this year, Christmas just doesn't have the sparkle that it normally does. The tree doesn't dazzle, the lights don't shine as bright, the elves aren't as active, I don't have any awesome presents I'm looking forward to giving, I haven't scheduled a single event at our home, and to just keep it all real here, the Random Acts of Christmas Kindness aren't even feeling very meaningful this season.

I'm trying really hard to maintain a proper perspective. I know that I have been so very blessed in my life and I know that Christmas isn't about any of the things I named in the above paragraph. But still. The big day is only 9 days away and I've got nothin'. Maybe last year was such a great Christmas season and so this year is a natural low? I don't know.

But I've made a decision tonight. I was looking at our nativity scene (with two elves in it... forgive her, Jesus) and thinking a little bit about that night and the days leading up to it. I know that there probably wasn't much sparkle on that journey to Bethlehem. I would suspect that the days were long and the nights were likely even longer. I've been pregnant. I know how hard it is to get comfortable in a king-size pillow-top bed. I can't imagine sleeping on the ground after spending the day on the back of a donkey. The stable probably didn't really dazzle much either, with the crowding and discomfort. It wasn't about the gifts, that year, either receiving OR giving... Well, except one Gift.

And that Gift allows me to take the pressure off myself to make the season perfect and festive and right. Thanks to that Gift, I can stop feeling guilty for not oozing green and red glitter and instead just remember two scared teenagers who made a conscious decision to trust. This might be my year to consider the scratchiness of the straw and the chill of the night, the odor of the animals in the stable. There was very little about that first Christmas that looked remotely like our Christmas of today. And so maybe this year, I'll quietly savor the love of a Father who looked into that stable, knowing the Cross that was to come, the humanity of a man and woman who accepted the way their community and society would see them, and the compassion of a King who willingly took on the weakness of a Baby. All of this so that I would one day have Life.