This is Christmas

It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

Except it isn’t.

Not this year. There are traditions we’ve come to count on year after year, and if we can’t honor those traditions, well then, it’s just not Christmas.

Except it is.

We have to let go of so many things that make the holiday the holiday, that it almost feels easier, more manageable, and less painful to pretend that it’s just not Christmas.

Except it is.

It might not look anything like the ones we remember, but a reminder of what Christmas has always been— Love showing up in the darkest of places and the most unlikely of circumstances.

It might not look anything like what we want, but it might be just the one we need.

If we try and make it what it’s always been, we’ll miss what it could be.

This is Christmas.

Let’s not miss it.

Advent 2020: A Season of Opposites

Advent is a season of anticipation and expectation. My faith tradition marks the four Sundays of Advent by lighting four candles, each symbolizing a different theme. While there are slight variations, four that are quite common among many denominations are hope, peace, joy, and love. This past Sunday we lit the first Advent candle.

If ever we were in need of hope, it is now.

And yet, the pandemic rages on and the race for a vaccine is far from over.

If ever we were in need of peace, it is now.

And yet, the battle for the better angels of our collective nature rages on.

If ever we were in need of joy, it is now.

And yet, the days grow shorter and the nights longer, shrouding our outer world with the same darkness that threatens our inner light.

If ever we were in need of love, it is now.

And yet, we must choose loneliness over love as we cannot gather with those we love the most because we love them the most.

We light an Advent candle to symbolize the hope of better days to come and the despair of how long it might take for them to get here. Both are true.

We light an Advent candle to symbolize the peace that passes all understanding and the battles that make no sense. Both are true.

We light an Advent candle to symbolize joy to world and the sorrow that is engulfing it. Both are true.

We light an Advent candle to symbolize the love that is all around us and the loneliness because those we love are not. Both are true.

Advent 2020 is as much a season of opposites as it is of anticipation. Hope and despair, peace and strife, joy and sorrow, love and loneliness.

We light the candles, because both are true.

(With gratitude to Pastor Laura Robinson)

Young Love

If I loved Christmas when I was a youngster, I loved Christmas night most of all. That was when the house grew quiet, the fire got another log, and a new world opened up with the turn of the first page of my new book. Every year that new book was the present I looked forward to more than any other. It fed an early love of the written word, which grew into the love of penning my own. It was then, and is now, a love that asks to be fed, and in feeding it, I am the one who is nourished.

What we come to love in life often shows up in our earliest years. Whatever your is, it is a love that deserves to be fed. Feed it well, and you will be the one who is nourished.

A stack of food for thought-Christmas 2019

Christmas Then & Now

When I was a little girl Christmas was one of my favorite times of the year.

It wasn’t so much about the presents under the tree as it was about the gathering together around the tree.

It wasn’t the amazement that Santa could make it down the chimney, although I did think that was pretty cool, but about the fire that blazed in our fireplace all season long.

It wasn’t the call from my dad’s friend Jack Figenson to let me know that Santa and his sleigh just flew over their house and I’d better get to bed, but the certainty I had that magic is as real as anything else.

It wasn’t the nativity scene that we put up every year to recreate that long ago story of the birth of a baby, but that I never once questioned the idea that the Love that set all of creation in motion would want to join us in our humanity.

My childish mind couldn’t imagine that the Love that is behind, and around, and within everyone and everything would want anything other than to live amongst us.

To this day, I can’t imagine anything else.

Ready For Christmas?

In every checkout line, on every phone call, in every meeting, and everywhere in between, there seems to be one question on everybody’s mind.

Are you ready for Christmas?

What does that even mean?

Are you ready for Christmas?

The answer usually involves deep breaths and a palpable sense of being behind on whatever it is we think it means to be ready for a holiday we’ve known about for the last 364 days, but that sneaks up on us anyway.

Are you ready for Christmas?

In my faith tradition, to be ready for Christmas is about watching and waiting. It is about entering into a time of darkness as we wait for the light to appear. It is about Love arriving in our midst in the most unlikely and humble of circumstances.

Are you ready for Christmas?

Christmas isn’t about doing things to be ready. It is about readying our hearts for what is to come.

Truth In Advertising

Sometimes a picture says it all.

We were living in Seattle, and my sister and I decided to take our daughters to the mall for a photo with Santa. Can you picture it? Long lines of parents with antsy little ones hyped up on sugar, “Santa” dressed in his well-worn costume, a photographer who’d rather be doing almost anything else, and parents who want to capture the magic of the season in the perfect photo. Good luck with that.

However, when it comes to Christmas and all the pressure to get it exactly right, this picture seems perfect to me, because it tells the real story. The one that makes room for things turning out not at all like we planned, but as things really are.

The Christmas Tree

Every year since building our home, we’ve bundled up and headed out into the woods to cut our Christmas tree. I’m kind of picky about the tree, so we usually have to wander a bit to find just the right one. It isn’t about the perfect tree. It’s about finding one the right one. I prefer pine over fir, and ample space between the limbs to showcase our motley crew of ornaments illuminated by little white lights. Along with the tree the house is decorated with greens, candles, a nativity scene, Christmas blankets, Christmas mugs for sipping toddies and such, and a host of other decorations we’ve gathered over the years.

This year however, the day before we were going to cut our tree we went to an open house held by a local non-profit that we support. Along with hot cider and cookies, there were already cut Christmas trees for the taking. Trees cut as part of an effort to create a healthier forest, which seems like a Christmas present to all of us.

We took one home.

Tonight we put it up.

With lights.

Period.

Some years are made to pull out all the stop

Others to simply stop and savor the quiet darkness of this holy time.

This is such a year.

(With gratitude to Mt. Adams Resource Stewards for our tree and everything you do to make the world better.)

A Holiday Permission Slip

This Thanksgiving was one for the books.

We weathered tag-team illness, a midnight trip to the ER, free range grandkids and grand-dogs, emotional highs, lows and everything in between, more people than beds, and, and a Thanksgiving unlike anything we had planned. Perhaps the description that comes the closest is from Tom’s prayer of gratitude for the “Glorious Confusion”. It was all that and a bag of chips. As challenging as it was at times, we all hung together, and loved the Thanksgiving stuffing out of each other.

However, opening my eyes at the end of the weekend in the early morning darkness, it dawned on me that another holiday is just around the corner. In that moment all I wanted to do was hunker down deeper into the covers and wake up after Christmas. The more I thought about it and all the expectations that come with the season, the harder it was to breathe. That was, until this morning, when my sister’s text arrived on my phone.

’I’m giving myself permission to not care about Christmas for the time being.

Reading her words, a tiny bit of space opened up inside and I began to feel like I could catch my breath. Remember when your parents wrote you a permission slip to miss school? What if we all wrote out permission slips to skip the kind of holiday we think we should have, and give ourselves permission to have the one that we could have?

Photo by Kaboompics .com from Pexels