Christmas Redux

From Lynn Hybels…

Here’s the main difference between me at 29 and me at 59: I used to think that everything mattered. Now I realize that very little matters.

I used to think that festive yet elegant Christmas decorations mattered. I used to think that hosting big parties mattered. I used to think that buying gifts for everyone who might possibly expect a gift mattered. I used to think that sending Christmas cards mattered. And that beautiful wrapping paper mattered. And that sophisticated holiday menus mattered.

But no more.

This year I’ve hit an all-time Christmas-decorating low. Last night Henry and I dug through boxes in the basement and found what we were looking for: two small nativity scenes, both handcrafted in African villages, and one olive wood carving of Mary and Jesus, made by Palestinian Christians in Bethlehem. We also selected a Waterford angel given to me years ago by a kind church member and a Saint Nicholas figurine from my sister-in-law. I have an aesthetic bias against Santa Claus decorations, but I love this old-fashioned Saint Nick. I may also get a $4 mini evergreen for Henry to decorate. Maybe not. 

Part of the decorating pressure of previous years was driven by The Party. For years, on December 23, Bill and I hosted a party for a random (and large) assortment of friends, many coming in from out-of-state to attend a Christmas service at our church. After the service a parade of cars would inch through the snowy neighborhood to our driveway. The house would be shimmering, the table heavily-laden, and the standing-room-only crowd in a festive mood. It was a lot of work, but it always seemed worth it — until recently. The past few years, as schedules have become more frantic, we have felt that we might serve our friends better by giving them a December night off rather than another party to attend. Nobody complained when we decided not to host the event this year….

Peace, joy, love. For so many years, these qualities eluded me, especially in December. It’s taken me half a century to learn that I was allowing things that didn’t matter to rob me of what matters most: nurturing internal peace so I can be a peacemaker, living with a depth of joy that spills joy onto others, and experiencing the fullness of God’s love so I can love freely. Only if I slow down long enough to let the Spirit of Jesus be born anew in me each day can I manifest the peace, joy, and love he offers to me and to a frantic, frenzied world.