Oh Christmas Tree

I took down the Christmas tree today,
Gently lifting each ornament
From dried out branches
Trying not to spill too many needles.

I thought of many of the people who gave them to me.
Many are doing this same task,
Removing the ornaments
From their trees.

"Our First Christmas Together",
"Our First House"
"Baby's First Christmas"
"Disney Vacation"

History displayed in decorations.
Trees filled with hundreds,
Thousands of memories.
My tree filled with hopes and wishes.

Despite my best efforts
The floor is carpeted with needles
Resembling a lonely,
Dark forest floor.

I tip the tree to drag it outside
Forgetting the water in the stand.
It spills and soaks my slippers.
Or is it a pool of tears in which I stand?

A Ghost of Christmas Past

My mother had an annual Christmas tradition where she would take each of her four children with her on a shopping expedition to downtown Pittsburgh.  This was treasured alone time with my mom.  We'd take the street car to town and look at the holiday window displays at Kaufmann's, Gimbel's, and Horne's department stores.  The tradition also included lunch at a coffee shop (I can't remember the name) where they toasted the hamburger bun - a gourmet touch to my young palate, since for our family buns themselves were a splurge.  Our hamburgers at home were served on sliced bread.

 

On one such expedition, when I was about four or five, my mom helped me pick out my gift for my father - handkerchiefs.  When we got home I quickly ran to my dad, jumped in his lap and with childhood excitement told him I'd chosen his gift.  Teasingly, I said to him "I won't tell you what it is but you can blow your nose in it!". 

 

You know, he never was able to decipher my hint and he was really surprised on Christmas morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting for Christmas

Remember as a child, waiting for Christmas to come?  We were distracted and occupied by the excitement of Halloween, then the preparations for Thanksgiving.  But after the turkey was eaten and the leftovers wrapped and packed away, Christmas and all it's trappings were dead in our sights!

The days on the calendar were checked off.  As each block was counted down, the pile of gifts stacked  up proportionally.  Every day one more house on the block was bedecked in lights and garland.

The wait was excruciating.  Curiosity was painful; the anticipation was like an electric current running throughout our bodies, making us tense and excited.  Trying to complete schoolwork was next to impossible, distracted by the thoughts of what was in all those decorated boxes.  The closer Christmas came the worse it got with the anxiety and "what-ifs" and "what-if-nots" stampeding through our emotions.

I've been waiting for "Christmas" to come for a long time.  Earlier in my life, I was distracted by work and activities that kept my mind, body and emotions busy.  But they no longer work.  I'll be 52 in a few months, all the major "holidays" behind me.  The only one looming is "Christmas".  Only this "Christmas" doesn't have a specific date on the calendar on which I can pinpoint being able to open my gift.  There's no way to countdown.  Every day is painful, as I look for signs that "Christmas" is coming.  I don't know if it ever will come for me.

My pain is compounded by the fact most all of my friends have already had their celebrations.  Now their children are enjoying their holidays, as the parents look on sharing in their joy and remembering their  own "Christmas".  I'm still anxiously waiting, wondering if there is a gift for me or am I not supposed to ever celebrate my own "Christmas".  I've had a gift waiting for someone, wrapped and ready; but no one seems to want it.

Every moment I'm on edge - curious, wondering if and when...and why.  At this age, after so long a wait, it's mostly "why?".  My prayers usually consist of two words - my heart not able to voice anything else but "Why?" and "Please!"  I repeat them over and over again, almost like a mantra.  Only this mantra does not bring comfort or peace.

Is this how Jesus feels - the gift He has to offer so many don't notice or outright reject?  Is this what it means to share in His suffering?

To climb out of this vat of self-pity I need to remind myself of the first Christmas 2000 years ago, when the King of Kings lowered himself and volunteered for a messy human birth followed by a messy human life, ending with a humiliating death reserved for criminals, not innocent Kings.  I need to remind myself that though I do not know the date or time or even if "Christmas" will come, the King of Kings knows the plan He has for me.  His plan ends with a great celebration that surpasses any Christmas that we can plan on earth. 

I wait with electric anticipation.  

A Christmas Far More GloriousThan Grand

For the first time in many years I put up a Christmas tree. Nothing fancy, just a humble (live) table top tree purchased at a local grocery store - originally $19.99 but marked down to $4.99. One strand of mini lights was more than enough. I woke a few ornaments from their hibernation in the dark dusty recesses of my attic.  The rest of the house was supplemented with a wreath on a door, a few holiday knick knacks here and there and some candles for additional ambiance. 

The gifts I received were just as simple – a shawl, a candle, handmade earrings (Barbling #1 custom-designed earrings), to name a few.  None were of great expense.  No diamonds or furs or trips to Europe; no big toys or electronics.  Just modest presents from people who love me – and who I love back.   

I don’t know why I chose to decorate this year.  There was no surge of holiday cheer in my heart.  This Christmas has been no better or worse than others.  In years when I decked the halls more extravagantly, I didn’t necessarily feel more of the Christmas spirit then, either.  I think at that time I was trying to manufacture glad tidings – “fake it ‘til you make it” – hoping to acquire some holiday cheer.  I was trying to keep up appearances; I didn’t want to be thought of as the sad lonely spinster -  Ebenezera Scrooge.

This Christmas Eve I attended a church service with friends.  It was informal – some reading of scripture and singing of carols.  Lots of singing!  Some of the hymns chosen were upbeat – “Hark the Herald” and the like.  Some were soft, ballads – the ever popular “Silent Night”.  Others were almost mournful and pleading – “Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel” and “I Wonder as I Wander”.  It wasn’t an emotional or inspiring affair; nor was it uninspiring.  It was enjoyable and it was…reverential.   

At times, during the singing I felt moved to stand in worship to my King.  I felt happy without being giddy.  No enthusiastic shouts came from my mouth and I didn’t feel compelled to buy a gigantic Christmas goose for the Cratchit family, a la Scrooge.  Though stirred emotionally, amazingly (for me) I didn’t tear up. 

What I felt was joy.  Not delight or bliss or ecstasy – those aren’t joy; not really.  They’re too circumstantial.  Those feelings are contingent on events and environmental conditions.  No, joy is the full knowledge that everything I will ever really need is provided for by my Creator because of what His Son, Jesus began on that first Christmas and finished on Easter, thirty three years later. 

I haven’t felt “joy” in a very long time and when I have, it’s been fleeting.  This was partly because I had wrong assumptions on what joy was and because my expectations of what would give me joy were overblown.  This year, I just wanted to mark the occasion of my Savior’s birth in some way. 

My simple Christmas decorations are not Martha Stewart-caliber.  No one will feature my home on their Pinterest boards.  My wreaths and tiny tree didn’t win any contests.  A line from the song “The Lord’s Bright Blessing” from the holiday cartoon classic “Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol” comes to mind.  The Cratchit family tells of their modest celebration singing: 

We’ll have the Lord’s bright blessing
And knowing we’re together
Knowing we’re together heart and hand

We’ll have the whitest Christmas
The very brightest Christmas
A Christmas far more glorious than grand 

My Christmas 2012 was not grand but it was Glorious – with a capital G.  The glorious part gave glory to God in the Highest.  Not because of anything I did – no impressive gestures of generosity.  Most definitely NOT because of some magnificent decorations or gourmet baking.  It was Glorious because for a time, sin and sorrow did not reign in me. He replaced it with His grand joy. 

This joy did not happen because I decorated a tree.  The tree was decorated because of the joy I felt.  It’s been a long time coming.  I pray it stays around awhile.

A Christmas Carol and then some

Some random thoughts on Christmas Carols...

• My favorite Christmas Carol is "Hark The Herald Angels Sing".  I still tear up when they sing it at the end of "A Charlie Brown Christmas". 
• My favorite line from my favorite Christmas Carol - "pleased as man with men to dwell".  Despite knowing what the future held for Him, Jesus - King of Kings, Lord of Lords, God incarnate was pleased to humble himself and come to earth to dwell with us. Pretty amazing stuff.
• From "Silent Night" - "Jesus Lord at thy birth".  THIS is what makes Jesus different from all the other gods and prophets.  He was Lord from birth.  He wasn't appointed; He didn't earn the job; He didn't have some divine revelation in grad school.  He was Lord from the beginning.  He was God, sent by God.  Begotten not created (from "O Come All Ye Faithful")
• A friend posted this on his blog Did Jesus Cry on Christmas?.  It reminded me of a TV Christmas movie from about 30 years ago, "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever".  During the pageant, Mary picks up Baby Jesus and starts to pat him on the back.  A snotty little girl remarks "Look at her.  She's burping him like he has the colic".  I realized that God Almighty might have had the colic!  And He had messy diapers, too.  And (you're right, Joe Fornear) He cried.  How humbling and humiliating it was for Him to take human form - and for what?  For who?  Me!?  Again, I say, pretty amazing stuff.