t's Christmas time - the season of crackling fireplaces, beautifulsnow-laden fir trees, joyful smiles, surprise gifts and happy memories. At least that's what TV and newspaper ads tell us. But honestly now, are all your holiday memories happy memories? Were all your Christmases the best ever? Or do you remember the worst ever Christmas?
I blush with shame to remember my worst ever Christmas. No, I wasn't sick in bed with a fever. Nor was I neglected by anyone; I'd been well remembered, satisfied with both what I gave and what I received.
Then why was that Christmas such a horrible day for me? It was because I had put too much emphasis on THE DAY itself - December 25. We'd traveled 400 miles for an early fun filled gift exchange with kids and grand kids. Then we'd driven another 100 miles to spend Christmas with friends, planning to travel the rest of the way home on Christmas day.
It was traditional in that home to exchange gifts on Christmas Eve and then sleep in on Christmas morning. I hadn't known that and had anticipated a last friendly breakfast chat over the cinnamon rolls I'd taken as a gift to our hosts. But we faced a long drive home and we could afford neither the luxury of sleeping in nor a late breakfast. So we rose early, ate cold cinnamon rolls at an empty, quiet table and slipped into the cold darkness, leaving our hosts asleep in their warm beds.
As we drove across West Nebraska, past darkened ranch houses and through quiet little towns, I saw cozy homes where eager children would soon race downstairs, wake up sleepy parents and delightedly open their gifts. I imagined living rooms strewn with bright paper, everyone talking at once, and Mother in her new robe preparing a leisurely holiday breakfast. The farther we drove, the faster I licked my wounds. Everyone was having fun but me! Here I was on THE DAY traveling down a lonely highway in a dusty pickup beside a weary driver, my self pity drowning out the radio's rendition of Joy To The World.
I had no reason to be irritable. The pickup was running well. I was warm and safe. But my heart was cold and I was in danger of an emotional explosion. When the driver and I disagreed on where to buy gas, the silence between us became even more icy.
Finding no homey, small town cafe with a 'Welcome Traveler' sign in the window, we stopped at a mini-mart and bought hot dogs, warming them in their microwave. The doughy buns and tasteless wieners lay like lead in my stomach a far cry from turkey and dressing! On any other day, this would have been a hilarious adventure, but not on THE DAY! I had allowed myself to be disappointed in a day.
When we arrived late Christmas night, our house, like my heart, was dark, old and empty. Next day called for some deep soul searching, some apologies and confession and a subsequent return of the joy and peace that I had quenched by a bad attitude.
Paul told the Galatians, I am afraid for you... You observe days... and season...*. He was reminding the Galatian Christians that God never promised that celebrating a day or a season would satisfy the deep longings of the human heart. Even the age-old Jewish feast days with their combination of solemn ritual an joyful celebration failed to give lasting contentment to God's people.
Nor does our own sentimental remembrance of the Babe in the manger touch the deepest longings in our hearts. Only the crucified, risen and glorious Savior, indwelling and controlling each believer by His Spirit can give the peace and joy and forgiveness that tradition is powerless to supply.
So, if your Christmas isn't or wasn't all you'd hoped for, don't be disappointed. Jesus Christ is the same - December 25th or July 4th. No one who trusts in Him will be disappointed.**
After all the commercialism and fakery of the holidays are over, our Lord Jesus will still be there, reminding believers that it is He, Himself, not a day or a season, that brings us through the dark hours. It is He Who gives songs in the night and joy int he mornings. It is He Who restores our souls. It is He Who rekindles the embers what we allow to grow cold.
And if we let Him, His presence will make doughy hot dog buns taste like manna from heaven and turn a dusty pickup into the very Holy of Holies.
* Galatians 4:10,11
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** I Peter 2:6