and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them. (Luke 2:7)
The
advent devotional I’m sort of skimming asks questions each day, and one of the
questions it asks about this verse is what is disappointing or embarrassing us
about this Christmas.
So
many things leap to mind: my cold, my needing to have a job, the slowness of
progress on my story, my inoperative water heater… They don’t really have anything
to do with being disappointed or embarrassed about Christmas. I’d be
just as disappointed or embarrassed about life not being just as I want it to
be if it were June. What is it about Christmas that is disappointing me?
This
is hard for me because I pretty much stopped doing Christmas in 2002. My
experience in retail destroyed Christmas, and for years, the season was a
struggle with depression. Some might say that I should have been focusing on
Jesus, and they’re right, but we’re talking about history and I can’t change
that. The fact is that Christmas was made a negative thing, with one exception.
At
some point, I began playing with the idea of intangible gifts God had given me,
as represented by stuff with which I decorated. When I became a snowbird, that
disappeared. I just don’t have the space for all the stuff I used. I’ve started
to try to replace all the stuff with little wood disks that have pictures on
them, but it doesn’t have the same effect. That’s one thing I am disappointed
about that is specific to Christmas.
The
second thing I think may be embarrassing me is my lack of artistic ability. I
have a vision for what I’d like to do with my decorating… the disks, the tree
that is on my lattice fence, the little tree inside the sliding glass door –
even the wreath-holding Black Bear on my desk. None of it is quite “good enough,”
especially with the windstorms that have blown through. Some of the ideas are
wonderful, but the execution lacks.
Related
to this second thing is the third. Performance is also lacking in terms of “doing”
Christmas. I don’t have traditions. I don’t have a family to make make a meal
for. Yes, I am contributing to the Christmas dinner in the park, but that won’t
happen for a week. I hope to bake cookies for two events this week, but the time
isn’t right for that either. Advent is supposed to be about preparation for
Christmas, but I’m not really doing Advent.
Part
of the trouble here is the retail push. “Christmas” starts early and if you don’t
buy early, you miss out. The pressure to do it all now makes me feel like a
failure because I’m not “ready” yet – a week before the holiday. And there are
other ways in which I don’t live up to the standard. I don’t give or get many
presents. I’m horrible about Christmas cards. And no, none of these things should
really matter. But I also fail at making the season sufficiently about Jesus –
otherwise, you wouldn’t feel as if you needed to remind me (correctly) that Christmas
isn’t about me.
You’re right. It’s not about me. I suspect I’m also right that there are things you are disappointed about or embarrassed by about Christmas. I wish you well as you consider them. But the interesting thing about today's passage is that the One about whom Christmas wasn't disappointed or embarrassed by the less than wonderful surroundings in which He was found that Chistmas day so long ago.
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