Wow! Christmas AGAIN?! My thought as I peered at my December calendar. Instead of my usual Yuletide fervor, dread reared its ugly head. I comforted myself. Surely it is because I worked so hard on the turkey! This apathy will pass.
Still no enthusiasm for me, but my husband bucked up with good cheer, and endured the cold to mount the roof against all odds to string Christmas lights. The outside of our house now looks so much like a Christmas wonderland that I even suggested that on Christmas morning, we open our gifts in our driveway.
My husband, un-amused, tried to spur me on by stringing some lights around our French doors, and when he finished, lit them up with glee. Still in my curmudgeon state, I peered at them above my specs while lounging in my easy chair and reading a delicious novel set in the summer months in Cornwall England.
"Oh nice," I mused, "very nice."
He looked wistfully at the little strand of lights and asked hopefully, "So, have you changed your mind about getting a tree?"
I looked up again, this time with a look that suggested he ask this again at some other time, perhaps next year.
"No," was my short and to-the-point answer.
Not understanding where else to go with such directness, he left me to my summer in Cornwall. Later in the evening, warmed by the breezes wafting over Cornwall into my heart in Portland, Oregon, where the east wind howled, I admitted that perhaps, whether I felt like it or not (I am an adult, right?) I should arise and take the challenge that faces every woman this time of the year.
Decorate! Bake! Shop! Wrap! Give! Entertain! Visit orphans armed with gifts! Visit the sick and elderly singing carols! Write on glittering cards a year's events distilled to three sentences to friends scattered all over the world! Let the aroma of spiced cider waft through the house, and ribbons adorn Fluffy and Fido! Let the music of ye old Christmas carols fill hearts of all who visit!
Aha! No wonder escape into Cornwall looked so good. I had forgotten! That Jesus is the reason for the season. That my gifts are because of my Savior, my king! That my efforts are not in my flesh, but in my Spirit, and that because of Him, this season can be full! Truly full.
That spicy cider, gifts to the poor and lonely, connections with friends far and near, carols reminding us of Jesus' birth, the gift of giving and receiving--It's all because of my dear Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Hmmm, I am smelling the sweet scent of hot spiced cider and the real love of the season. Thank you Jesus. Let the celebration begin!
