December 6, 2006 @ 1:07 pm | Filed under: Uncategorized

But the season for what?

I spent seven hours yesterday hanging stockings & wreaths, assembling & decorating the Christmas tree, pulling out holiday linens & tablecloths, and wrapping gifts. From the time I arrived home from my last class until I dropped into bed, exhausted, at eleven o’clock, I was immersed in all things holiday-ish.

But even as I delighted in the way my house was slowly, but surely, donning that special ‘look’ that it bears for thirty short days each calendar year, I couldn’t ignore a tiny, yet persistent, voice somewhere in the depths of my spirit. A voice that begged me to question my motives, to truly investigate why, in the midst of so much evergreen, jingle bells, and tangles of bows, ribbon, and paper…I felt a twinge of annoyance.

Is it okay to admit annoyance during this season? It doesn’t feel good to admit it and yet, once I allowed myself to slow down a bit and examine my thoughts and emotions, it was liberating to voice that, although I truly love this time of year and all the craziness that comes along with it, sometimes I just don’t feel equipped to handle craziness.

I can’t ignore the guilt that I feel just knowing that the real reason for the season is, year after year, continually lost on so many levels. While I’d love to say that I’m not guilty of contributing to this, that would be false. And what I want in this post is truth.

The stores are nuts this time of year, full of shoppers who empty their wallets and max out their credit cards in an effort to meet "the needs" of their long, seemingly endless, shopping lists. Behind each and every store counter stands a bone-weary salesperson who only wants to go home, kick off her shoes, and think about anything other than her deranged customers and the holiday that is causing the derangement.

We (and I mean ME) feel the pressure to pretty up our homes with the festive colors of the season when the reality is that our homes are made festive by the love that blooms there year round. We snatch hard-to-find toys from store shelves that have been picked bone-dry when the reality is that our kids and grandchildren need our love and attention more than they need the 2006 version of store-bought happiness. We spend so much time and effort in creating a picture-perfect moment in time when the reality is that, in mere minutes, our living room floors will be scattered with torn wrapping paper, scattered toys, and we will realize that we can’t even find the camera, let alone capture it all on film as planned.

I have to wonder if on Christmas night, when we are sitting quietly by the softly twinkling lights of the still-lit Christmas tree, and we are thinking back over the day’s activities, will we feel a void? In the midst of the spoils of the day, will we at last be able to slow the pace and consider the real reason for the season?

It’s enough for me to know that I know HIM, and He is the reason for the season, right? But do I offer Him to others all year long through my actions, through my words, and through my love for Him? Is there any reason why I should wait until December 1st before the magnitude of what this season represents and all that it means should register with me?

So, for the next few weeks, as I prepare for the big family dinner and the happy gathering of friends and loved ones, I will do my best to make sure that my words are cheerier than my wrapping paper. Make sure that my actions are more dependable than the batteries I’m stocking up on. Make sure that the love I radiate is more than just the J O Y stocking hangers that line my fireplace mantle.

Will I continue to buy into this madness we affectionately call ‘the holidays’? Sure I will. I will always love the evergreen wreaths, I will always carefully pick out the paper, and I will most likely always spend long hours putting up, setting out, and taking down – just as I did yesterday.

But hopefullyl I will take time out to recognize it’s the relationship with people that matter, not the gifts I buy for them. It’s the time I spend with them and not the amount of money I spend on them that binds us together. And it’s not the mess that’s left on my living room floor five minutes after gift-giving that matters, but it’s the love and joy that’s left in our hearts that will truly be worthy of a picture-perfect moment.

If I can only find the camera, that is…