“You Will Find a Baby Wrapped Snugly in Strips of Cloth, Lying in a Manger.”
Parties, shopping, buying, wrapping, writing cards, cooking – endless activity. In Christmases past, the constant commotion resulted in my body becoming a Petri dish for a spiteful virus.
This year had been different. Quiet. Not many parties, not much shopping, not much insanity. My immune system hale and hearty, the seal on my Vitamin C remained unbroken. I was healthy as a horse, maybe that’s why it didn’t feel like Christmas?
But my attitude was ailing. Searching for the Christmas spirit felt as if trying to snare a mist. Attempting the capture of something translucent and weightless. Could I make Christmas happen while watching my pennies? I couldn’t stand the thought of not having a Christmas morning with lots of WOW. I prayed Santa hadn’t invested too heavily in the stock market.
I asked my five-year-old Joe what he wanted for Christmas. “A skateboard.” When pressed, he added, “Bid-de-o games.”
In the shadow of the Courthouse, daughter Hannah Kate asked Santa for a horse or a dog. Santa replied, “I don’t bring live animals.” This answer prompted quite a direct examination of me surrounding a kitty she received one Christmas. I offered that maybe Santa changed his policy on live animals — probably due to sky-high insurance premiums. Hannah countered, “Does he think of fish as live animals?”
A board straddling two sets of wheels and a bowl of water housing a five dollar set of gills. Nothing to break Santa’s bank.
I became convicted watching the primary school’s PreK visit Santa last week. Those precious little faces. “Skateboards.” “Bikes.” “Baby dolls.” One dear girl asked for a garbage truck. She assured everyone she meant a toy garbage truck.
No, I had the problem. Experiencing stillness at Christmas completely unnerved me. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be!
T. S. Eliot wrote, “Where is the Life we have lost in living?” All pardons to Mr. Eliot but, “Where is the Christmas we have lost in christmas-ing?”
For once, absent the bustle and material trappings – this year, unlike two thousand years ago – there might be room found at the inn. A chamber of the heart free to welcome a baby. Solitude to cradle a tiny breath of a being in your arms. So pink, soft and delicate, infants are utterly helpless yet utterly limitless. New life; the ultimate paradox.
“Where is the Life we have lost in overspending, anxiety, fast-paced keeping up with Joneses and every other last name listed in the phonebook?” Standing free from the burden of striving for earthly importance, reach for the baby. Seize the birth of freedom from fear, failure and final endings. Hold that beloved babe, drinking in the sweetness and purity. This Christmas drop everything.
Embrace Life.
You really got it. It is easy to forget what Christmas is all about and get caught up in the commercial side of the season. I am glad your voice is out there. We need it now more than ever. You also are very hot and I am glad you are my wife.