Christmas

Somedays I really feel like Scrooge:

If you start watching it, beware...it's the full movie! I found it on Google videos, and it's the 1935 version. The story is just so powerful and thought provoking.

But somedays I still feel like Scrooge. And, just like Scrooge, it's for purely selfish reasons.

I'm bah-humbugging that we won't be celebrating in our home with our Christmas tree and all our personal family's traditions with the boys.

I'm bah-humbugging that my mind is, at times, so unfocused that I am somewhat overcome with the anxiety of how I'm going to get it all done.

I'm bah-humbugging the fact that at the end of this year there are only 19 days left of the United States as we know it.

I'm bah-humbugging that I have procrastinated getting my house in order and now I am frustrated with the packing process for our upcoming trip.

speaking of which...I'm bah-humbugging the fact that I am leaving the cold and crisp and Christmassy-feeling Pacific Northwest for tropical and sunny and summery-feeling Southern California. sigh. I want snow for Christmas.

I'm bah-humbugging that I am now THE MOM and it's up to me to make the Christmas season all magical and wonderful...instead of my Mom and Aunts.

I'm bah-humbugging that I'm bah-humbugging!!!

So...just like Scrooge, I think I'll be visited by the three "ghosts" of Christmas to gain my perspective.

When I was a child I loved Christmas! Growing up Christmas was truly the most wonderful time of the year. My parents both come from huge families (they each had 14 siblings), and that meant tons of cousins and tons of food and, depending on which side we were with, lots of card playing (which meant nickel hearts in the breezeway with Dad & Uncle Jack) or lots more music (which meant improvised accompaniment to carols and made up words to traditional Christmas songs), and there was always lots of laughter. Either way, it meant a ton of family and a ton of fun.

We had our own family traditions, too. I grew up Lutheran until I was in 9th grade so every Christmas Eve we would get dressed up in the one gift we could open on Christmas Eve (most people do pajamas...we did new Church clothes...usually homemade and matching when I was really young, but still beautiful and exciting) and we would all look forward to going to Candlelight services at 11:00 PM. And, since 11 PM is a late show, we'd often have oyster stew around 9:00 and then we'd load into the car about 9:30 or 10 and we'd drive around looking at Christmas lights until it was time to go to church. It was glorious. My Dad would make us "ooh and ahh" over the lights that were really done up, and he'd often tell stories about the lights or the displays or the people who did them. Again, there was lots of laughter and lots and lots of joy. We'd head to Candlelight services where there was a peaceful amazement that fell over the sanctuary. You could literally feel it. People were excited...they knew that we were there to celebrate the culmination of our anticipation season...we'd light that final Advent Candle and sing "O, Holy Night" for the first time. Christmas was a time of spiritual and familial magic. Mom & Dad might "bite" at each other early in the night when they were trying to make sure everything was getting done, but by the time the Oyster Stew was complete (of which I never once ate an oyster...I hate those slimy things...but the "broth" was pure enjoyment! And they gave meaning to oyster crackers!) all was well and the hand holding and snuggling and cooing and low talking would begin. Mom would laugh at Dad's jokes and stories and when they got too outlandish she'd say, "Oh, Gene!" and playfully slap him while she told us it was all lies. Sometimes, after the Candlelight services...when they started doing them at 10:30 instead of 11:00...we'd finish up at our church and head down to Grandma's to attend Midnight Mass. I'll never forget the first time I smelled the incense and asked my dad quite a ways above a whisper what that awful smell was. I'm sure I was really young, and I remember Dad quieting me quickly, but I'll never forget the Priest walking down the aisle swinging the incense. Oh, and if we returned home after the Candlelight service? We'd plead with Dad to let us open "just one more!!" Christmas present until he'd go down beneath the tree and pick one out for us to open. This was sometimes pajamas...sometimes a new toy...but always exciting!! And pretty soon...after much more pleading...all the presents would be open and Mom would be chuckling over the fact that "they did it again." Oh, Christmas in our house is a great memory for me.

I'm going back to 9th grade with this ghost, though...My sister was married and it was Dad, Mom, Todd & me at home. Toddly had decided to make all of my presents very easily seen under the tree that year, and he wrapped them ALL in purple foil wrapping paper. It was absolutely beautiful ~ purple was my favorite color that year. In the pile of gifts was a purple & white ski coat with matching purple mittens, a purple and white raglan sleeve sweater, and, I think, that's the year he gave me a wooden letter "C" because every time he'd ask me what I wanted I'd say, "hmmm, let's seeeeeeee...." It still makes me laugh. Toddly has a heart of gold. Dad would have gotten a bottle of either "Old Spice" or "AquaVelva," Mom would have gotten either a book, a hat or some new clothes, and Toddly would have gotten some new clothes, too.

"Ah, ghost of Christmas Past, why can't I remember what I gave?"

Now for Christmas present: My husband and I have been married for 11 years this month. My boys are 9 and 6, and they still "believe" that Santa is a man in love with Jesus who longs to share His love with boys and girls around the world by sneaking into their houses on Christmas Eve and leaving presents for the birthday party. My house is a mess...*insert BIG groan here*...it's always a mess. There's so much STUFF!! We're in the process of clearing out. We've gotten rid of so much already and there's still so much to clear. The tree in our front window is a real tree this year. It's a small little 4 footer on a table to make it look good in the window. The presents are purchased and waiting to be wrapped. I'd tell you what I'm giving, but someone might read this and then the cat's out of the bag! Oh. That reminded me. This will be the first Christmas without my "first baby," Ebony Kazotsky ~ my big black medium-long haired cat.

And the ghost brings me to friend's houses...those who are just waiting for the day when they'll get the call from the hospital that her Mom has passed away. Those who are wondering how they're going to pay for Christmas with a husband out of work and a wife working as much as she can to make ends meet. The family who is wondering what the future holds employment-wise for them and tightening their financial belts "just in case." Friends who will deal with the guilt of leaving family once again after the holidays are over and they return home...and praying their "other" families will understand and be gracious this time. A friend who will receive another round of chemo on Christmas Eve (Merry Christmas, Angie!), and still has an amazing spirit of joy and peace about her. And I see my original family...Toddly and Denise celebrating on the East Coast. Tami & Chris and the kids celebrating with Mom & Dad in Nebraska. My sister, Teresa, whom I've never met but hope to one day, celebrating in Germany. Aunts & Uncles all around the world from California to New Hampshire...Virginia to Texas...South Dakota to Australia...and places in between. Scott's extended family in Canada, Florida, Texas and California.... Some of them ill or anticipating what 2009 will bring in the way of bad news. All of them celebrating (again, some without really knowing they are) the birth of the reason I'm alive today...to bring glory and praise to the newborn King ~ Jesus Christ.

"Ah, Ghost of Christmas Present, there's so much we have...and some are hurting so badly. Why can't I see the blessings? Show me who I can touch with the love of Christmas this year!"

And the Ghost of Christmas Future: My boys are all grown up. They might have families of their own (I hope so...lots of little granddaughters running around) it's my ghost of Christmas future...I can dream, right? Their trees are up and their lights are on the house. They have sports on the television and their wives are wondering why they've "checked out" instead of jumped in to join them with the Advent devotional. One hollars back, "My Mom did that with us...that's your job." The girls don't mind ~ they love this time of year and Daddy loves them so very much, but the littlest one wanders in and asks her Daddy if, for her, he'll come join them and write down what he wants to give Jesus today. He rolls his eyes and sighs real big and wanders in to plop into the chair as Mommy forces a smile at her girls and starts to read the advent story of that year. We go ahead a couple of days and the family is getting everything loaded into the car for their trip to see Grandparents over Christmas break. The kids are excited, but the parents are frazzled and frustrated over the sheer number of miles needed to travel just to see family. It would be so much easier to just stay home and make the regular phone call. Christmas Present brings me to the windows of our own home as the boys arrive with their families, and I see there are decorations up and candles are lit. Carols play over the satellite stereo system wired throughout the house. I am hurriedly rushing about trying to remember where I put the rest of the presents. Scott is needing to go to the mall ("What? It's 3:00 on Christmas Eve!!" "Well, I know...this is when I do my shopping!"), and the kids are forgotten in front of the television set with some Christmas movie like, "Jacob's Gift" or something. Caleb & Micah immediately start wrestling and the daughters-in-law are simply trying to figure out why they have to miss Christmas with their original families once again. The nativity set is prominently in the front of the Christmas tree (with a Baby Jesus who can come out of the manger and be played with the so the kids know He's a personal Savior and not a figurine that can be looked at but not touched), and the "Happy Birthday, Jesus" stocking hangs prominently on the back of the front door. I look at the Ghost of Christmas Future with a question in my eyes..."is there.....?" He inclines his head toward the stocking and says, "see for yourself." I glide over to the stocking (afterall, I'm with a ghost...I certainly didn't walk!) and reach my hand inside. I pull out slips of paper. Each one has a picture of the nativity with the words, "Happy Birthday, Jesus. You are my greatest gift. In return for all You are to me, this is my gift to you today: __________________________. Love, __________________" Tears stack up in my eyes and I read the names on the bottoms of the slips. All of the family: grandchildren, children, daughters-in-law, and my handsome spouse are on the slips. Mine is, too, and I read it, "...gift to You today: my bad attitude towards Christmas. May You be the center of all of it."

"Oh! Ghost of Christmas Future! Why didn't I learn!? It's years later and I still have a bad attitude toward Christmas!! WHY didn't I learn?"

I am back in my chair at my desk. "The Bishop's Wife" is playing on the TV being recorded to DVD, and my fluffy little dog, Dakota, is hiding in his doghouse outside because he doesn't want anyone to see his masculine doggy-self in the adorable Santa coat with hood lined in White faux fur I make him wear this time of year. But my bah-humbug has turned to "born unto us...." thoughts instead.

Born unto us are the memories of Christmases past. Some of them hold beauty and light and hope. Some hold pain and emptiness and a loneliness that sucks joy from every crevice.

Born unto us are friends and families who look forward to the time spent together. There will be frustrations as adults figure out how to be adults instead of children in their parent's home, and grandkids will cause joy and frustration as they are so innocently themselves.

Born unto us is the reality that our futures are written upon the scripts of Christmases Past & Present.

Born unto us is the equal reality that our Christmas Present can change the scripts of Christmases Future by focusing on one thing:

"For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord." (Luke 2:10)

There is hope. There is reason. There is meaning in this life.

Hope is found in the manger...in a stable filled with the most Christmasy of smells: animal dung and hay. He came so we can know joy in the midst of the dung in our lives.

There is reason found in the hill called Mt. Calvary. We were created by, lived for and died for. All so we could know a peace that passes all understanding in the midst of secularism and greed.

There is meaning in this life found between the pages of the Bible which is God Breathed, and "useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness..." All so we could know we are not a cosmic accident, but were "knit together in our Mother's womb" by the very God who breathed Scripture, Heaven and Earth into existence.

Focusing not only on the "reason for the season" but on the reasons in the season takes the Bah-humbugs away. Even if you have little...or if you have much...peaceful and full is the heart where Christ is at it's center pumping life-blood and truth through it's veins.

May you have a wonderful and Merry Christmas as you celebrate the birth of the Savior of the World...the only way there will ever be peace on earth...Jesus Christ.

(by the way, if you're wanting to just see the best part of the movie, "A Christmas Carol" you can find it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7NfDuDh0Uc What a beautiful scene!)

And, just because it fits and it's one of my favorite movies EVER...