Christmas used to be one of my favorite seasons, even considering colliding schedules and Norman Rockwell expectations in my head of how perfect I wanted it to be for my children. Somehow the busy-ness and last-minute panic baking and wrapping just made everything memorable for me.
That was when our children were young and we were invested in helping them develop memories of special family times. Christmas began to get hard for me the first year my husband and I were forced to celebrate Christmas alone because all of our children were grown and gone. Every sappy Hallmark commercial got me grabbing Kleenix because I felt the loss of those magical earlier years that cannot ever be recaptured.
Please don't feel sorry for me...I did plenty of that enough for myself! My husband and I attempted several solutions to the empty nest Christmas dilemma including hosting an open house for anyone we heard of who also might want people to hang out with. We made sure it was a joyful gathering, too--not a place for sorry sops to cry in our Christmas punch.
Through this process of filtering out my emotions, I've come to realize how easy it is to approach Christmas with a shallowness that disregards the deeper impact of needing and then being given a Savior. In my desperation for family activities, I too often overlooked the beauty of reflective quiet when pondering the baby who came out of love for me.
Even though I now am intentional about focusing my emotions on "the Gift," Christmas Eve is still bittersweet because those Hallmark commercials really are good.
What makes Christmas hard for you?
Posted on
Friday, December 14, 2007
by Gloria Ruppel