Stop In The Name Of Love

My family accuses me of being a Grinch. They ask me every year why I hate Christmas and I always tell them that I love Christmas… DAY. It’s the three months leading up to Christmas Day that I hate. The music, the decorations, the traffic, the commercials, the piles of trash and gifts that you don’t particularly need or want. Whenever the kids would bring up Santa, I would wrinkle my nose and tell them I really don’t care for him. This holiday is really about Jesus, but I felt that He was mostly overshadowed by the fat guy, I would say. Then they would get this worried look on their face because they were afraid my disrespect of Santa would negatively impact their anticipated windfall come Christmas morning. Yup, for me it is all about Jesus. Except when it isn’t.

This year my wife and I were asked to sing at the church candlelight service and we graciously accepted. But as the season became more and more busy, the practice required became more and more of a chore leading up to the service. And then on the day of the service, we were cleaning in preparation for family coming over the next morning. That’s when it happened. For a moment, well maybe a minute or two, I regretted the decision to help out at church. We were just too busy trying to get everything ready. We should never have agreed to be a part of the event. And then it hit me. I had lost focus. The thing I cherish most about the season was being overshadowed by dust bunnies. Instantly, my attitude shifted. The tension and stress melted out of my body as I realized it really didn’t matter if the house wasn’t perfect because we’re not perfect. And that imperfection was recognized and redeemed by a baby and that is something worth stopping and celebrating smack dab in the middle of a busy season.

Merry Christmas!