Thank God, it's over.

my personal favorite holiday greeting by tina the seamonster


Christmas. You completely kicked my ass this year. You weren't supposed to do that! Aren't you even familiar with your own adjectives??? Just to remind you, "joy" and "peace" are often used in conjunction with you. I swear! Look at any greeting card section and I guarantee you'll find copious amounts of those two words. You didn't render either of those for me this year! What's up with that?? (although you did render not one, but two 2009 calendars from some artists I adore! I'll admit, that was decent of you.) But let's get real for a second, when the highlight of your Christmas is calendars?!?! Surely you'll agree that there should be more to Christmas then calendar appreciation. So let's work on that next year. I'll try to remember that I don't have superhuman powers and that I'm not capable of 50,000 mind numbing tasks (alright, it wasn't quite that many. but still!) and you just try to not to be such an overbearing, life sucking force of nature. Deal?? We'll see...

The Letting Go

So...I'm pretty much failing miserably at my desire to keep you all regularly updated. I felt so on top of things about two weeks back. Energized and motivated! Ready for the holidays. Lots of things to share here. However, I didn't anticipate being sick, not only over Thanksgiving, but also for the start of Advent. It has almost taken the wind out of my sails... almost. I'm quite idealistic (it's a core flaw I'm afraid) and get pretty bummed out when things don't go as I plan for them too. And I had really lovely plans! So letting them go has been a bit of a challenge. But something happened in the letting go process. Something that I didn't expect, but something that I am deeply grateful for. That something, is nothing. All my plans ceased to materialize. Crafts went undone, many decorations are still sitting in boxes (although thanks to the h, lights did make it up), goodies went unbaked, the fridge has been emptied, stories unread. And for the big "what was I thinking???" moment, I discovered that storing your Advent candles in the attic (which yes, is cool in December, not so much in July..) is not a good call. Our candles were hard, wonky, globs of wax, so we weren't even able to light our first candle on Sunday. And yet, it was all quite serendipitous. Usually I would be having mild anxiety attacks, but instead, all the time that went unused, was replaced with a quiet peace. I plan all these activities as a way to connect with the meaning of the season, but nothing has brought me more closeness then this time I've had to sit in stillness and contemplation. A Lutheran pastor I know from San Francisco (via the internet) posted this article she had wrote for her church newsletter a few years back. Every year something reminds me to read it again.

A Merry Christmas to you all!

This year for Christmas I thought long and hard about what to send friends and family. Most of our friends are living in big cities or are just starting out which means that they have no space. Many of our relatives who are amply housed are starting to consider downsizing. As I looked in shops and catalogues I couldn’t help but have the nagging feeling that more stuff was the last thing anyone we knew really needed. I joked to my husband that maybe what we should really give everyone this year is an empty paper bag with the instructions: “You are given permission to fill this bag with stuff and take it to Goodwill. Merry Christmas.” What a gift that would be!

The gift of emptiness really is a gift. It just sometimes takes a second thought to figure that out. In Luke’s Gospel Mary the mother of Jesus meets her aunt Elizabeth. They are both pregnant and filled with joy about their coming babies. Mary sings a song we famously know as the Magnificat. In her song she sings praise for all God does, “Putting down the mighty, lifting up the lowly, filling the hungry with wonderful things, and sending the rich away empty.” (Luke 1: 51-53) Often this song is interpreted as a gift to the poor and lowly while punishing the rich and powerful. I wonder if instead it was meant as a gift to everyone.

Those who are hungry in Mary’s song have a physical need that needs filling. Good food, safe housing, opportunity for education, affordable health care. Those who are rich have needs too. Even though glossy magazines and TV commercials say the rich need more stuff, maybe what the rich need is more emptiness. Maybe what the rich really need is more space for the Christ Child to come and fill.

I have to admit, I wasn’t brave enough to give my friends and family empty paper bags for Christmas this year. I send them fairly traded chocolate instead. I kept the empty paper bags for myself and filled them up. A bag of old but usable socks to the shelter, a bag of cans to the food panty, a bag of appliances to Goodwill. Taking them away put me in contact with those who are poor and lowly. It made me care more about how many kids are at the shelter (40 a night lately) or how much food donations have gone down (9%) while need has gone up. Part of our call as Christians is to fill such need and to make Mary’s promise a reality. And I have to say, the emptiness in my closet, my cupboard, and in my basement feels good too.

There are twelve days of Christmas. This year I pray that this Christmas season will be filled both with “wonderful things” or “emptiness.” I pray Mary’s song will be lived in your life.

While my issue wasn't so much about stuff and things (although it could easily be...) it was still about creating space in my heart to reflect on the love of God's incarnation and to stand in awe of what is still to come. I needed all those ideals to be stripped away, and upon reflection, I can say what I am most thankful for this year were those days sick on the couch that gave me the opportunity to let go.