I will not start packing up the decorations today.
I will not start packing up the decorations today.
I will not start packing up the decorations today.
I’m not sure why this occurs, but every year sometime in the afternoon on Christmas I start twitching. We’ve gone to church the night before and sung Silent Night (my favorite 4 minutes of the whole year). The presents have been opened. Typically at least a couple of magical moments have been had. Everyone has settled in with a book, a puzzle, or a new set of Legos. And in those quiet moments after the much-anticipated Christmas morning, I find myself sitting on my hands so I don’t start pulling ornaments off of the tree.
Because we did it. We survived the season. And I want a return to normal, and I want it now. I don’t need to wait until January 1st for a reset. Not this girl. I want my house to be clean and organized. I want the Christmas cookies thrown away. I want my Department 56 houses packed up so I can have my surfaces back, ready for the next round of clutter. I want to erase any evidence of Christmas from my home so that the manic nature of this month can be over already.
Now I’ve been a priest for 15 years and an Episcopalian my whole life, so I know this is not how this works. I know that December 25th is the FIRST DAY of Christmas, and that I have 11 glorious days ahead of me to settle into the gift of Christ’s birth. I know the Christmas carols are supposed to start today. I know that yesterday we were in Advent, and we were busy spiritually preparing for Christ’s coming. Or something.
But listen, that’s not the world we live in and we all know it. We live in a world where the Christmas machine starts the day after Halloween and the frenzy builds such that every year without fail I’m still shopping the morning of December 24th even though I can’t possibly buy enough things to make me feel like I am enough. It doesn’t matter. I’ll keep trying. I’m pretty sure I can find “enough” at Home Goods. It might even be on sale.
I remember one year that I did take down the Christmas decorations before the day was over. My husband and I were living in a house with a lovely wood stove in the center of the living room, and we had enjoyed a roaring fire for most of the month leading up to Christmas. By the time Christmas Day had arrived, if you so much as walked by our tree, pine needles would start raining to the floor. By the time we had removed the ornaments, this is all what remained:
This tree is something of a ghost of Christmas past for me this year. It feels too much like a metaphor of how I feel when I get caught up in the Christmas machine and find myself dragging over the finish line on the morning of December 25th. I am like this tree. I am done. Dried up. Get behind me, December.
But that’s not how I want to live this day. It’s not how I want to live these 12 days. I want to feel alive and full of living water. I want the words that we’ve sung together on Christmas Eve to seep into my bones. I want to wake on Christmas morning with the dawn of redeeming grace. In my continued search for “enough” I want to remember that Christ is Risen with healing in his wings, light and life to all he brings.
I want the lights to stay on the tree. I want to light my Advent wreath and pray for hope, peace, joy, love, and now, Christ. I want to be moved and changed—again and again—by the incredible and unprecedented way God Incarnate arrives in a manger and changes everything. I want to believe that I’m enough—not because I bought enough presents—but because I am God’s beloved, and so is everyone else.
I hope you didn’t get caught up in the Christmas machine this year. But even if you did, there is still today, and tomorrow, and the day after. Christ comes for us regardless. What a gift.
Let heaven and nature sing.
Discover more from Grow Christians
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
That’s an interesting topic!
What a juxtaposition between the Christmas machine and the wonder of Christ’s birth. Your article captures this beautifully. My strategy which doesn’t work for me is to ignore it. Play denial. The result is an enormous sense of anxiety. Not helpful.
My Dad’s birthday was January 6th, epiphany. Appropriate for an Episcopal priest! I am forever grateful that it was drilled into my brain during childhood that Christmas didn’t end until Dad’s birthday (nor were the wise men allowed anywhere near the creche scene until then! They stayed in the east, on the other side of the room!!) There are years that I don’t even do family Christmas shopping until after the New Year. It’s a beautiful thing. This year, Christmas is on January 14th. The tree stays up until at least then!
Happy 3rd day of Christmas!! Peace on Earth!!
Thank you so much for your post! Your story was a great reminder to lean into the 12 days of Christmas! Keep the Magi in the Creche. Epiphany has yet to come. Sheepishly, I must say, most of my Christmas is already by the door here on Boxing Day. I will put the Merry Christmas banner back up.