Christmas in and of itself is a doozy. December sends me tumbling. Every single year. No matter how I prepare and save and plan ahead. It’s a washing machine of emotions and expectations that get jumbled together, churning over and over in my mind. I normally end up crying in my room at some point. I think because my everyday life is so easy and my good intentions for the month overwhelm me. It kind of all comes to a head as we near the apex of the holiday season, and yet I’m getting better. Just not fantastic—or even good—at it all yet.
This year’s December was a little unusual because our congregations got all shaken up, kind of like the B6 and I8 chips in those huge Bingo mixers. When the dust settled, many of us ended up with new responsibilities that are uncomfortable and unsettling. That’s just the nature of our church make up, inspired and brilliant. But definitely humbling and a little scary. I got an assignment I’ve always dreaded. Lots of us did. But we just go with it and trust that as we do our best, God will fill in for all our inadequacies. It’s just that it added a little more to an already full season.
I didn’t exactly cry about Christmas. But Christmas morning I felt like it. Woke up early. Head already swimming with what I still had to do. Put out stocking stuffers. And the gifts. I was too exhausted on Christmas Eve to do anything of the sort. Put the butterscotch rolls in so the casseroles could go in after so we could eat warm food as soon as we were done with gifts. I think next year I just want to have brunch. They can eat their Lucky Charms for breakfast. And I’ll linger in bed. Warm next to Todd. Till maybe 8. It wasn’t that any of it was hard. Not at all. I love it all. It’s just that I was tired. So tired. In my body. And in my mind.
It wasn’t till later that afternoon that I finally felt myself relax.
The next morning was another early one. I mentally geared up for the shopping. I told Andrew we’d be back in five hours. I wasn’t wrong. Later that afternoon I felt myself relax again. To the tune of cheesy romantic Christmas movies. Finally.
I think I’ve found the holiday sweet spot. For me, it’s after Christmas and into the New Year.
I can still play my Christmas music. My tree’s not going anywhere. I’m home more so I can linger by its lights. I love the garland made from the Christmas greetings we’ve gotten in the mail. I’m taking my naps again. I’m reading my fluff magazines. I’m breathing. I can see my bedroom floor. And I’ve cleaned the microwave and oven. Again. I’m coming up for air.
I’m watching the movies I missed in earlier December. I’m basking in the not-needing-to-go-anywhere phase of the season. I’m missing out on the sales. Oh well. Too bad. I’m slightly reviewing what I’d like to do differently next year. I’ve thrown out all the uneaten treats. I’m exercising again (after a week of sick and another of having boys sleeping in my workout space).
I love that people are still putting on their house Christmas lights. That there’s pretty snow. That we don’t have school. That we still have New Year’s to celebrate. Which is a little like the Fourth of July in December: not stressful in the least but a grand excuse to get together with friends, a late night with nothing on the agenda but eating and visiting and games. Traditions to play out, expectations, of course. But fondue? Nothing to fuss about, easy peasy.
Everyone asks How was your Christmas? I want to be sweet. But you know me, I want to tell the truth. I waffle. But I have to admit sheepishly that I’m glad it’s over.
But I’m so sad that it’s over. I feel better now. But I feel defeated. That I can’t be completely joyful while it’s happening. I regret that. And don’t know entirely how to fix that. But I came closer this year than many in the past.
I loved that we went to see the Bell Ringers in an old downtown church with our good friends. I loved our kids’ school concerts. I loved seeing the lights. Our nightly Christmas stories. The cards and pictures and letters. The high school Christmas concert that none of our kids were in, just for fun. I loved having my sister and mom. I loved the gatherings with friends. I love the coziness of lights and tree and decorations. I loved the treats our friends brought us and having everyone home. Spending the night in our cozy mountain town weaving in and out of decorated shops sipping cider. Then slipping into shared beds watching tv till we fell asleep on each other. I loved finding gifts for people and wrapping presents and sending packages across the miles. I loved remembering families we used to live near as we’d address and stamp each envelope. I loved the fires and hot chocolates. The small ways we provided a tiny bit of happiness for others and the myriad ways others brought joy into our home.
So it wasn’t a wash. It was an excellent month. A full month to be sure. If I could have a Christmas wish, it might be to have either two of me or two Decembers. Just to cover our bases a little better. But it all works out. We made some great memories and we laughed. We enjoyed just being with friends and family. We felt the nudge to be a little better, a little kinder, a little more generous, and we did what we felt we could.
What I love about the after-Christmas-time is that now we get to take all those feelings, those promptings, those good ideas and run with them. Now that we’ve taken off our Santa hats, we can get to work. Not in an obligatory way, but in a slower, more mindful, intentional way. We can rekindle relationships we’ve led slide. We can help organizations who are feeling an after-Christmas slump. We can re-evaluate where we want to put our energies. We’ve felt Christ’s love and seen his light played out in so many ways over the past few weeks, that now we get to sit with our cup of hot chocolate and ask ourselves what we’re going to do with it all. I’m content. Happy—so over the moon happy—with Christmas. It’s my favorite time of the year. But this is close. As I bask in all that we were able to experience and feel, I want these feelings to linger, to propel me to action. Christmas has a magical way of elevating our thoughts and deeds. And I know if we stay in touch with those feelings of the season, we can do some good throughout the rest of the year too. In quiet, meaningful, everyday-not-just-at-Christmas-ways. I love this time of year of reflection. A chance to assess what we want to do with everything we’ve just experienced. I like the lull, the downtime, the less intense glow of the holiday celebrations. It’s more my speed. I guess that’s why to me the week after is almost as good as the ones before.
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