Member-only story
At Christmas we create the most unrealistic expectations for ourselves. We imagine that the world will end if we get the wrong gift for our spouse/lover/child/parent/boss/distant cousin. Having family or friends over for a party? Great. The house has to look right. We have to decorate everything. Our home should be filled with the warm, tempting odors of delicious Christmas treats. Oh, and the kids. The kids need to be on their best behavior. What will the in-laws think if Jason tries to flush Emmy’s Elsa doll down the toilet again? And the office Christmas party — now, there’s a potential source of stress.
The money, the travel, the schedule, the school and church plays, the decorating… and then, we hear a Christmas carol on the Internet radio station, and we think, “What, God? You want me to be holy at a time like this? Well, I can’t. I just can’t. I’m stretched to the snapping point. I’m exhausted. I want to recall the wonder of the newborn Christ-child, but it’s just not in me.”
Feeling a little unstable this Christmas season? Let me tell you a story…
Many years ago, my wife’s grandma made a beautiful, thin-wall ceramic nativity. Then she gave it to me. Somehow, for forty years, we have managed to move, store, and display that fragile set of figurines without breaking anything. We put it up at home when we had toddlers. It has survived rambunctious…