Christmas 2003
I am finding myself wanting to write a Christmas letter. I have no idea why. I am not a Christmas letter person. I could make fun of Christmas letters but some people I really love write them. Actually, the truth is that I like Christmas letters. I just think that they are for others. In order to write a Christmas letter you need to be married and probably have kids to talk about. How many single people write Christmas letters? I am going to write one anyway. Something tells me to start with Christmas’ of the past.
To say that Christmas was my mother’s favourite time of the year would be an understatement. I think it would be more accurate to say that the other three hundred and sixty four days of the year were just time fillers to Christmas day. My mom would start buying Christmas gifts in the summer. There were a lot of musts for Christmas. We must have licorice allsorts, wine gums, nuts still in the shell, Nutchos, and lots of other candy. My mother loved Christmas carols as well. Something about them made her happy. Then there were the gifts. I always had a lot of gifts to open. My mother would save everything I needed and wrap those things up as Christmas presents. After we opened presents we would have a nice breakfast and then probably have a nap between then and dinner
After my mom died, I really didn’t see a lot of point in celebrating Christmas. It was a time for children and I was no longer one of those. Christmas became something to get through. It reminded me of all I had lost. I would leave my shopping until the last minute. If I decorated my house, I would plug in the little tree my aunt made me out of hangers and garland with lights strung around it. And even then the only reason I decorated was because it bothered people so much that I didn’t have a tree.
The first Christmas after I asked Christ to come into my life I felt like I had a reason to celebrate again. For the first time since my mother passed away, I dug out the tree and put it up. I actually put it up on November 17th – that’s how excited I was. I baked all kinds of food. I had a Christmas party at my house. I was so happy. It seemed like my years of having to tolerate Christmas were over.
The next year, I started to remember all of the things I didn’t have. Christmas is a time for families. The family members who I used to celebrate Christmas with are gone. The family I celebrate Christmas with now has their own traditions. Their history is something I was distant from growing up. It always feels a little strange to be with that part of my family at Christmas.
Last year at this time, I saw God in everything and everywhere. I was so excited about the work God was doing in my heart and life. I sang Christmas carols everywhere I went. I felt like there was an adventure in front of me and I was ready for it. I don’t feel like that this year.
This year, adventure doesn’t seem like a very good idea. A nap would be better. I am tired. I don’t have that same excitement I did last year. Part of me wonders what was wrong with me last year. It is not that I don’t think there is anything to celebrate; it is just that I am not experiencing the energy and excitement that a new beginning brings.
So where is my Christmas spirit? How am I finding meaning in this season? I think about the time when I thought my life had been taken away from me and there was no hope that life would ever get better. I think about how I have moved from merely surviving life to really living it. I think of the fact that I live in a community in which I am known and cared for. I think of this past year and how I have never before had such confidence that I am exactly where God wants me to be – even when things are tough. I think of friends like you.
That is what Christmas is about for me this year. It is about remembering all the beginnings. It is about being in awe that God would come to earth as a baby for someone like me. It is about looking forward to meeting Christ in new places.
I pray that this year will be full of happy beginnings and discoveries for you.
Love,
Misty
Christmas 2003
To say that Christmas was my mother’s favourite time of the year would be an understatement. I think it would be more accurate to say that the other three hundred and sixty four days of the year were just time fillers to Christmas day. My mom would start buying Christmas gifts in the summer. There were a lot of musts for Christmas. We must have licorice allsorts, wine gums, nuts still in the shell, Nutchos, and lots of other candy. My mother loved Christmas carols as well. Something about them made her happy. Then there were the gifts. I always had a lot of gifts to open. My mother would save everything I needed and wrap those things up as Christmas presents. After we opened presents we would have a nice breakfast and then probably have a nap between then and dinner
After my mom died, I really didn’t see a lot of point in celebrating Christmas. It was a time for children and I was no longer one of those. Christmas became something to get through. It reminded me of all I had lost. I would leave my shopping until the last minute. If I decorated my house, I would plug in the little tree my aunt made me out of hangers and garland with lights strung around it. And even then the only reason I decorated was because it bothered people so much that I didn’t have a tree.
The first Christmas after I asked Christ to come into my life I felt like I had a reason to celebrate again. For the first time since my mother passed away, I dug out the tree and put it up. I actually put it up on November 17th – that’s how excited I was. I baked all kinds of food. I had a Christmas party at my house. I was so happy. It seemed like my years of having to tolerate Christmas were over.
The next year, I started to remember all of the things I didn’t have. Christmas is a time for families. The family members who I used to celebrate Christmas with are gone. The family I celebrate Christmas with now has their own traditions. Their history is something I was distant from growing up. It always feels a little strange to be with that part of my family at Christmas.
Last year at this time, I saw God in everything and everywhere. I was so excited about the work God was doing in my heart and life. I sang Christmas carols everywhere I went. I felt like there was an adventure in front of me and I was ready for it. I don’t feel like that this year.
This year, adventure doesn’t seem like a very good idea. A nap would be better. I am tired. I don’t have that same excitement I did last year. Part of me wonders what was wrong with me last year. It is not that I don’t think there is anything to celebrate; it is just that I am not experiencing the energy and excitement that a new beginning brings.
So where is my Christmas spirit? How am I finding meaning in this season? I think about the time when I thought my life had been taken away from me and there was no hope that life would ever get better. I think about how I have moved from merely surviving life to really living it. I think of the fact that I live in a community in which I am known and cared for. I think of this past year and how I have never before had such confidence that I am exactly where God wants me to be – even when things are tough. I think of friends like you.
That is what Christmas is about for me this year. It is about remembering all the beginnings. It is about being in awe that God would come to earth as a baby for someone like me. It is about looking forward to meeting Christ in new places.
I pray that this year will be full of happy beginnings and discoveries for you.
Love,
Misty
Christmas 2003
posted by Misty at 6:27 PM
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