“I returned to the usual getting ready for Sunday zoo at home, but I'm used to that. I'm tough, I can handle it.”
Well, it's the first week of December. Christmas LOOMS on the horizon. As usual, I feel totally unprepared. I've tried not to panic and do just what needs to be done, but that's still a lot! A few days ago we got our tree. I believe this is the earliest we've ever gotten it. But, that's ok because I, being somewhat of a perfectionist, may spend hours trying to get the lights just right and the bulbs and what not in good synchronized fashion. I let the children put on the bulbs and bit my tongue. I didn't want to criticize their fine efforts. But, too many of the same colour bulb are in one spot and all the decorations are four feet down and two feet across. That's ok, I can deal with it.
However, I'm not prepared when the bedlam begins. The children argue about who's first to put on the angel. They argue about who gets what bulbs and how come so and so got the biggest (I have news for them I hid the biggest and I get the biggest, tee hee hee). They argue about whose turn it is to open the window on the advent calendar. The latter I thought I had licked by penciling in their names on a regular calendar but… I had put John's name first and, as the case was so passionately stated, he was first last year. They argued about who was to get the tree with Dad and they argued about who was going to be the one to pass out presents. It is hard to keep track of whose turn it is to be first. I could fill up an entire daily planner just keeping track of "who's on first!"
Anyway, after the umpteenth time of who's first and what's biggest, I got fed up and said, "If all you're going to do is fight, I think we should cancel Christmas." I went on to say that Christmas is supposed to be a time of peace, but it sure isn't in this household!" Thus began a period of first class ranting, but I won't bore you with the details.
Well, after I remarked that I wanted to cancel Christmas, John, our oldest, got quite upset with me. "You can't cancel Christmas! No presents!? Take the tree down!? No Grandma visiting us!?" He was horrified. I calmed down to a simmer and told him to ignore what I had just said in my frustration. But, the damage was done. I don't want to spoil Christmas for them. I remember a particular Christmas when my Dad got the tree Christmas Eve and my mother was grumpy and they had a fight. It seemed to spoil the mood, and I didn't want to do that to my kids. Well, tomorrow's another day.
Tomorrow came. "Ah", I said as I got up. "Another day to start fresh." I walked over to the church and it was drizzling out (hope it snows soon, I muse). No, I won't let the weather dampen my spirit, I determined. I set up communion and did some last minute touch ups on the Christmas decorations. Surveying the Christmas-like surroundings, I went over a song that the Sunday school class would be practising for the Christmas pageant, then I said a quick prayer. I left feeling pretty good about things. I returned to the usual getting ready for Sunday zoo at home, but I'm used to that. I'm tough, I can handle it.
Things didn't go too badly at Sunday school, at least until it was time to go to church. It seems that there was a bit of friction about next week's Christmas pageant. Rats! In hindsight, I realize that no one was put in charge. The feelings I had the day before surged up again. "Where is the peace that's supposed to go with Christmas?", I shout up at the sky (as if it's God's fault). Perhaps, I should've had more than a quick prayer earlier.
When I got home from church I told the kids to give me five minutes and I barricaded myself in my room. Again, I cried out to God "Where is the peace that is supposed to go with Christmas? Where is the warm feeling that you're supposed to get at Christmas?" I then asked God to forgive me for my ranting at the children the day before. I also asked that He would forgive me for not focussing on Him more. However, reality was upon me again and I put God on hold while I got the children watered and fed. Then, I went back to my "prayer closet" and remained quiet. The thought occurred to me, as it often does, that Christmas should be simpler.
I thought about the surroundings Jesus was born in. How much simpler can it get? When God arranged for Jesus to be born in a stable, He knew what it would be like today – with all the programs, tinsel, gift buying, parties and such. What a contrast. In God's sense of humour is the message: Christmas is supposed to be simple, natural like being born in humble surroundings — not a hi tech, sterilized hospital. Christmas is God being born in the stillness of His new earthly life, not in the scurrying to the mall, concerts and whatever else we dream up. In that first Christmas, God brought His presence into this world in the most unassuming way. When the time was right, it just happened – without even a room, or a bed. But such simple, humble surroundings just make the miracle shine brighter, right? So, why do we expend so much energy trying to get the perfect gift for someone? Why do we have to take the natural, humble, spontaneous quality out of the Christmas equation by trying to do, and make, everything perfect? We need to constantly remind ourselves about what makes Christmas perfect — Christ, not our efforts! Christ, in very imperfect surroundings, was the perfect gift.
The next time you find ourselves in a moment of anger, or obsessive thoughts, stop and reflect on the simplicity of Christ's earthly beginnings. The next time you panic about what you haven't done to make Christmas perfect, remember Christ. He is the only perfection we will ever experience in this life. Let go and let Jesus take care of you as He always has, always wants to, and always will. And, remember, children are only a reflection of who we are in God's eyes.
Sheila is the best thing that ever happened to Grant (outside of Jesus)! Thank you Sheila, for taking the time to get even busier and write this wonderful glimpse of reality.