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