Apparently it is almost Christmas.

In a few days it will be December 25th and your Facebook and Instagram feeds will be covered with professional photos of couples wearing red and green sweaters. You’ll keep scrolling and see cute babies, dogs dressed as Santa Claus, and probably an advertisement from a local small business wishing you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year while kindly nudging you to hire them to clean out your gutters.

Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal.

If I’m being honest, it doesn’t feel like a merry Christmas.

We’ve watched the movies.
We’ve listened to the songs.
We’ve eaten the cookies.
We’ve wrapped the gifts.
We’ve read the stories.
We’ve set up the Nativity.
We’ve eaten more cookies.
We’ve lit the Advent wreath.
We’ve looked at the lights.

But it doesn’t feel like Christmas.

It’s exhausting to try and force a feeling, isn’t it?

As I’ve wrestled with where I am rather than where I am not, I have come to accept that this Christmas is simply going to be a different kind of merry Christmas. 

And that is okay.

It has to be.

Christmas finds us after months of uncertainty, pressure, and change. Through the past 9 months we’ve laid down traditions and celebrations for the greater good. We’ve adapted and waited, prayed and stayed away, welcomed and waved goodbye. We’ve socially distanced, binge watched, and wondered when things would go back to normal.

All of our steps forward and steps back have led us to a different kind of Christmas. 

Along the way, I’ve gathered joy and pain, hope and fear, answers and questions.
Maybe your arms are sore from holding onto so many different thoughts and feelings at one time.

Mine are sore.

This Christmas we won’t be rushing out the door to attend the Christmas Eve service.
We won’t all be gathered around the table. 
We won’t be attending work parties or holiday events.
We won’t be gathering around the piano to sing carols (because we’ve never done that and we aren’t living in a movie from 1962).
We won’t be gathering with friends for a White Elephant gift exchange.
We won’t be ________.

And that’s okay.

There are many bits and pieces I love about Christmas, but without them I am given a clear view of what can so easily get buried in the beautiful …

The arrival of Christ.

Hope from the heavens
Wonder fills the world 
Glory in the highest is now beside us.

When all has been stripped away, Jesus remains.

For all we won’t be doing this Christmas, we will still be celebrating the arrival of Jesus.

And that’s all I need.

Some would say He is the reason for the season.

(For the record, I would say He is, but I don’t have the bumper sticker)

Perhaps this Christmas will be reminiscent of the first Christmas.

An ordinary day with something extraordinary happening. 
Beauty breaks through the dark as love appears.
A prayer answered with unexpected wonder and long anticipated hope.

Maybe this is the Christmas I need.
One unlike any other I’ve yet to have.
After all, when all is stripped away I still have all I need. 

Merry Christmas, friends.

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