We hear it every year. Christmas is not the most wonderful time of the year. It is the most difficult, depressing, discouraging time of the year. TV commercials and comments and casual conversation try to convince us that Christmas is nothing more than hard work, stress, disappointment and large amounts of cash spent, often on people that we just don’t care that much about.
Wow. Can we back-peddle just a bit? Like maybe 2,000 years worth?
The original Christmas gift was baby Jesus. Sounds lovely and neatly wrapped up and a positive thing to believe. But do we?
As the pastor stated this morning, that whole thing was strange. A common young woman chosen for the most important responsibility that has ever been and will ever be. Angel warriors showing up with messages. Frightening, I would think. The nation’s wisest and wealthiest traveling for years to find a child and bring that child strange gifts. It’s all so weird.
It’s still weird. In order for Christmas to last as long as it does and to endure through the ages as it has, there must be something very strange about it.
Most recent studies show that depression is NOT elevated during the holidays. Suicides do NOT increase during Christmas. In reality, it is just the opposite.
There is a marked increase in one thing during Christmas. Joy.
Joy, the kind that comes not from company parties and paid holidays and gift giving and receiving. No, real joy. The kind that comes from somewhere deep within. We are built to love Christmas. As the pastor said, it is “baked” in us.
In spite of that truth, there are moments that I still struggle at Christmas. I know that it is due to the huge expectation on put on myself. Often I am looking for Norman Rockwell but end up with Salvador Dali.
We must learn that it is not the painting we create, it is the process of painting. It is what lasts. Which is more than we can say for cookies and eggnog and that tool you bought for your husband at Big Lots.
Just thoughts.