Unwrapped Present

All the preparation – beginning the Hallmark Christmas movie binge way back in October – even before Halloween – and still, I find that I am not quite ready for Christmas day. Rather, I am not ready for the season to end – for the houselights in the neighborhood to come down, for the radio stations to go back to playing everyday- ordinary songs, for the television specials, movies, and all-around good cheer to end. I do, however, look forward to returning to normal in other ways – normal traffic patterns, regular routine, a less hectic pace. 

As I think about what I love and hate about the holidays, I remember something a friend recently said – how low-key his childhood Christmases, and how he enjoyed the festivities of his wife’s family.

When I consider my own favorite holiday memories, I think of spending time with my ex’s family. His grandfather was a Baptist preacher. They did things right, in my humble opinion. Christmas at his parent’s house was filled with purpose, love, and simplicity – the things I love most about Christmas – the things lacking in most of my Christmases. 

Purpose – we began by gathering around together as a family as his grandfather read from the Gospel of Luke. We enjoyed a meal together. We opened presents. Everything was simple. Nothing was rushed. There was no excess in gift giving. The gifts themselves were relatively simple – thoughtful.

This year, as in other years, I am unable to spend Christmas day with my sister and her family in Houston. I am not sad and disappointed, though. My sister’s Christmas – I dearly love her and her family, but her version of celebration leaves something to be desired for me – rush and excess.

Christmas Eve – we get dressed up to fight the traffic and the crowds to find standing room only at “her” church. An overcrowded act of obligation and frustration. Why bother? If a person doesn’t feel the need to go to church any other day of the year, (except maybe Easter) why go through the hassle on Christmas? To acknowledge God once and then ignore Him the rest of the year? What message does that give to the children forced to endure it? What does it teach them about God? That He is a cold, cruel taskmaster? 

Love and purpose are lost. Simplicity is forsaken for the sake of obligation. God is reduced to a check mark on a to-do list. 

After church, off we rush to get to the restaurant in time for our reservation. Fighting to get out of the church parking lot – traffic in the lot, traffic on the roads – nerves are frayed. Busy, busy. Rush, rush.

The meal itself is good. The family time is wonderful, but I would much rather skip the whole ordeal, stay at home and hang out with the ones I love – no agenda, no rush. I get not wanting to cook a meal on Christmas Eve. Sandwiches would be perfectly fine by me! 

We get home exhausted, everyone ready for bed. 

Christmas morning – I do enjoy the boys on Christmas morning, living vicariously through their youthful excitement. But it is on this day, Christmas morning, when I truly  feel loss the most. God is missing. Purpose is gone. God was checked off the to-do list the night before. The “real” purpose has arrived. Excess – greed – gluttony. Santa Claus – what’s under the Christmas tree? Gifts I cannot afford. Expectation I could never live up to. Excess – possessions that will soon be forgotten, tossed aside. What was deemed so prized, so valued, so hoped for, now buried in the closet or trash heap somewhere. 

Oh, yes, we all have those toys we long remember, those Christmas memories, but even the best, most memorable end up tossed aside, forgotten, gone. The only eternal gift never unwrapped on Christmas day. 

Then, all the presents are opened, stacked up neatly in a corner, all the wrapping paper cleaned off the floor. We exhale. It is over, done, complete for another year. 

Yet, there’s a longing emptiness – like something forgotten – a present lost, tucked away, forgotten. Maybe that Red Ryder BB gun hiding in another part of the room? Lost amidst all the other toys and unwrapped wrapping paper? 

No. Even the coveted Red Ryder BB gun was tossed aside after a few, brief, playful, painful moments. 

Another Christmas season over and that most precious, eternal gift remains hidden in the corner. Maybe next year it will be found, dusted off, opened, and true joy unwrapped. Maybe next year . . .

So, am I sad to be working instead of with my family at Christmas? I will miss being with them. I will miss my favorite Christmas tradition – spending time with Ryan putting a puzzle together. But I will not miss the distractions. 

In fact, I look forward to a day of purpose, love, and simplicity. 

It begins with going to my church for Christmas Eve – being with my church family, people I love and who love me – worshipping Christ with intentionality and not as obligation. 

I have worked already today and will be on-call tonight and tomorrow night. Unlike the years I worked at the UPS hub at the airport or Amazon, I find a Christmas purpose to this work. I hated those other holiday jobs. They represented so much of what I despise about Christmas. Here, though, working as a chaplain in a hospital during Christmas, I have a wonderful opportunity to bring some Christmas hope to those spending Christmas in less than ideal circumstances – giving people hope, reminding them of the God who loves them today, tomorrow, and everyday – getting to freely share Jesus with others. 

Tonight, unless paged, I will go to dinner with friends. Tomorrow, I will spend time with local family and church family. In all of it, there is no agenda, no rush, no list of must-do tasks, no worries of getting too frazzled by the chaos. 

I still have Hallmark movies recorded to watch. I’m recording my favorite movie, It’s a Wonderful Life, tonight. I’ll watch those sometime this week. Christmas movies, but I feel no rush to watch them before midnight tomorrow night. I shall wait until my day off later in the week when I can snuggle up and enjoy it – no rush. 

Purpose – love – simplicity. That is what Christmas means to me. It is no one’s fault except my own that I have lacked these in the past. My sister would not have cared had I skipped church. I know she would have welcomed my desire to begin our morning with the Christmas story. She loves me and would welcome into her own traditions whatever mattered to me. I do not blame her or her family’s traditions for me getting derailed each year. 

Still, this year, I am thankful for the slowdown – introspection – ability to realize what matters most to me. So, this year, I begin a new tradition for myself – no matter where I go or who I am with: purpose, love, and simplicity. 

Thank You, God, for unwrapping the most precious of gifts – the eternal gift – Whose light never fades. I love You. Thank You for loving me.

John 3:16

The Command of King Moonraiser

This morning, as I drove my mom and step-dad to meet the bus they would take for their vacation to the Tennessee mountains, we discussed my upcoming internship. I shared how much I enjoyed being on this end of God’s plan – being able to see how He has used my past experiences growing up, education, career at Belmont, and cancer to prepare me for this next journey of life. Even with all the warnings about how tough hospital chaplaincy can be, and even with the strong urging to maintain my spiritual outlets for my own mental health, I know deep down that I am on the right course. I know I am meant for this field, and that, overall, I have found my fit. 

Reflecting back on the last eight years – from the moment I made that conscious decision to do whatever it took to “fix” me – through all the growing pains along the way, I see how God was preparing me – all the jobs I did not get, even the certainty that He did not want me to go full-time at Amazon only to find out the next weekend that they were doing away with my part-time position – the countless whys – struggling to understand – how it has all led to this moment. 

My growth and journey are not done, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I am so honored to have been given this glimpse – the light peaking through the window – an illumination. 

I even think of love – one of the biggest reasons I have not put myself out there again. I knew I had to work on myself emotionally and spiritually. However, I also wanted to be independent. As it is now, living with my dad, struggling to pay my bills, having to constantly seek help from my parents – there is no way I would even consider dating a man in my position. I would not expect a man to date me in this position. I must have something to offer. Although I am not there yet, I do see a light at the end of this tunnel as well. That does not mean I’m ready to throw my heart into the ring just yet. It just means that for the first time in eight years, I think romantic love could, perhaps, be a possibility in the future. 

After I got home from dropping off my mom and step-dad, I turned on Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, my favorite childhood Christmas show. As I began watching, it occurred to me why I loved this show above all others. It is not so much a story about Christmas as it is about redemption. 

Rudolph and Hermie, both ostracized for being different, set off on their own. “We will be independent together,” Hermie tells Rudolph. 

Along the way, they meet another odd-ball by the name of Yukon Cornelius. As they travel on, the abominable comes after them, and poor Rudolph blames himself. “It’s my nose. It’s ruined us,” he says. 

Later in the story, Rudolph will run off in the middle of the night, thinking he is doing what is best for his friends. He tries to isolate himself. Luckily for him, his friends (both the other misfits and the “normal” Clarice) won’t let Rudolph get away with running away. They go after him and wind up using their own differences to save him.

Before this, though, the band of misfits end up on the Island of Misfit Toys.

“We’re on the Island of Misfit Toys. Here we don’t want to stay . . . If we’re on the island of unwanted toys, we’ll miss all the fun with the boys and the girls . . .”

Rudolph feels like he found a place where he finally belongs, a place where he fits in. Before they can stay, Charlie-in-the-Box tells him they will have to get permission from King Moonraiser.

Every night, King Moonraiser searches the earth for unwanted toys and brings them to the island until Santa can find a little boy or girl who will want it. The king denies Rudolph’s request, telling him that living creatures cannot hide themselves on the island. “Being misfits yourselves, you might help the toys here,” he suggests to Rudolph. 

The king does not say “if” you return to Christmas Town someday. No. He says “when” you return someday – tell Santa about the toys. “A toy is never truly happy until it is loved . . . “

Rudolph replies, “when and if” they ever get back, they will tell Santa. This is the turning point of the story, just before Rudolph attempts, once again, to isolate himself. 

Anyone familiar with the show or song know how it ends. Rudolph does return home, saves Christmas, and keeps his promise to King Moonraiser. Santa stops on the island, and all the misfit toys find new homes. 

Before today, I never noticed the correlation between me and the misfit, Rudolph, or the Island of Misfit Toys and the Church. 

I, like Rudolph, tried to isolate myself on numerous occasions, thinking I was protecting others from me. Like Rudolph, I was blessed enough to have both “normal” and “misfit” friends and loved ones who never let me get away with running away. Like Rudolph, I have grown to see my differences as a gift and not a curse. 

I have said on more than one occasion that I love the church because it is the one place where I feel truly at home – at home among people just as different as myself. My church is my Island of Misfit Toys. 

It could be so easy to want to stay within the safety of the church walls and church community, and I did that for many years. However, like King Moonraiser told Rudolph, we are not meant to live on this island. 

The King brings the unloved to the island, but this stop is supposed to be temporary. We are made to love and be loved. We cannot do that in isolation. Our differences are intended to make us useful “out there.” 

In the end, all the misfits find their fit. Yukon Cornelius tames the bumble, Hermie becomes the first dentist in Christmas Town, and Rudolph uses his nose led the way. Those who are “normal” realize they were wrong and embrace a new truth. 

“Well, it’s Christmas Eve, and it looks like we are forgotten again,” Charlie-in-the-Box cries.

In the end, both the misfits and the “normals” were all saved – no one was forgotten – all because of their differences and the King’s command to leave the island.  

The Christmas season is my favorite time of the year – the movies, the television classics and specials, the music, the parties, the decorations – everything. However, I usually experience a sense of let-down on Christmas day. I do not enjoy the normal gift giving. The heart of the holidays is somehow always lost. 

This year, between our church’s new vision and my new upcoming adventures, something about me has changed and continues to change. My vision this year is on those hurting, lonely, depressed. My prayer this year for me, and for everyone who has a relationship with Jesus Christ, is to get off the island – to embrace our own differences, be in tune with the “misfits” around us and NOT to forget them again.