It’s Christmas. Happy Birthday, Jesus.
As I’m getting ready to do all the stuff I’m going to do, I’m feeling a
little uncomfortable. I’ll go to church (unless my head won’t let me) and sing
songs of praise. I may bustle about and make another dish to take to dinner.
After said dinner, I’ll probably go to visit friends to watch whatever movie
they picked out.
But let’s say it was your birthday, and throw in a little more of what
is “normal Christmas” for people. You wake up and the kids are all excited
about what gifts they’re going to receive. You go to what should be a birthday
party, and find that once your friends and family greet you, they talk to each
other more than they do you. They go home and get ready for a family or another
community celebration of your birthday, where the focus is on who brought what dish,
who is wearing what, and how much effort getting ready for your birthday dinner
was or how much they spent on presents for everyone but you. I’m not trying to make
anyone feel guilty. I see the same things in myself, and I don’t have the same
level of human interaction as some of you.
Over the past decade, I’ve heard about an Icelandic tradition involving
giving books on Christmas Eve that the recipient then gets to spend the day
reading. I love the notion, but if I get a chance to pick up a book today, it’s
likely to be by Agatha Christie, and Jesus probably won’t have a role. On the
positive side, I’m listening to Christmas music, at least some of which has to
do with Him.
And with that, I’m going to share my Christmas Concert, so that maybe we
can both spend at least a few moments celebrating Jesus’ birthday on Jesus’
birthday. Merry Christmas!
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