So...how ya doin'? You enjoyed/survived/tolerated/rejoiced in/bah humbugged/delighted in Christmas. And you're still here. Good for you. Be proud of you.
If you know anything about me, you know I love Christmas. Yet, like many of you, my Christmases carry loss and sorrow as we mourn those who aren't here with us. I miss my parents so much that it hurts. Not all the time, of course, but sometimes the pain takes my breath away, still so sharp and clear after all these years. And other precious family members and dear friends, all lost now...I remember them, too. Even so, I still rejoice in Christmas. Not because of the gifts or the food or the shopping or the TV specials on PBS, although they are all enjoyable--except the shopping, but that is the price we pay for wanting to give to those we care about.
No, I rejoice in Christmas not for any of those things, but for the hope. The idea that the birth of a small child would cause a ripple in history. A child who would grow up and go forth and preach a message of love and acceptance. He would suffer terribly and he would be killed for his words.
A huge story started then, a story that would change the world and set in motion great times and small things, terrible events and glorious actions. That's the story of Easter: tragedy and terror, loss and sorrow, murder and miracle, redemption and glory.
But on Christmas, we remember the beginning, the trembling fear and overwhelming joy every parent feels when they hold their newborn, the expectation of things to come, that moment when it seems the world pauses in expectation, the first lusty breath and then a baby's first cry rings out in a silent night....
I rejoice in Christmas because it is a reminder of those things. A reminder of hope and how things can change. It's a new beginning. That's what Christmas is for me. I hope it is that for you, too. Whatever you believe, that's what I pray for you.
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