Christmas Day, 2011

I don't know why but this year I just wasn't really all that into Christmas. I know, I know, I did all the fussy decorations and the baking and all that. But in true confession style--I was phoning it in. I didn't feel it. I did those things because I knew they were expected. In reality? I think I'd have been happy leaving my tree in the box. And Christmas music? I think I listened to maybe four of my CD's and then only rarely. And not because I really wanted to but because I hoped it would push some of that elusive Christmas spirit into me.

It didn't.

Usually I'd have finished the majority of my Christmas shopping the first week in December. This year? I did a little bit of it when Mama and I went to Tupelo that first Friday of December. But the rest of it?  I put it off until the week before Christmas. I just wasn't into it.

I think part of it was that I was just so worn out from the previous months of birthday parties, work and church stuff. And another part of it is that for the past few  years, I've held on to the Christmas spirit thing and was always inevitably disappointed. To the point of tears, if you recall. If you don't recall, it's all in the archives. ;-)

All that to say: I just wasn't into this year. My expectations were less they low. They were non-existent. I didn't really care one way or the other.

I'd prayed about it because I felt like it was something lacking in me. Why couldn't I get into it? It's such a special season and all. I felt like a bad Christian for not caring about Christmas.

And all through December all manner of thoughts played through my heart, wondering what Jesus really thought of the whole thing. What does He think about us putting up trees and sending out cards? What are His feelings on us rushing around going crazy, being greedy and glutenous all in the pretext of celebrating His birthday? I know that sounds cynical and downright Grinchy but I truly began to wonder about it. Maybe the reason I wasn't "feeling it" was because I wasn't supposed to.

Well, I don't know that there was ever a moment were I just "got" it. Where I opened my ears and heard God speaking to me. It was more like a lot of little moments, thoughts and sermons that helped me realize that it wasn't anything lacking in me. And there's nothing, necessarily wrong about a Christmas tree or all the other trappings. What was wrong was that I had been putting my heart toward all the wrong things. I was what was wrong with me.

Christmas isn't just a season. It's not even just a celebration. It's a recognition of a loving God who came to earth as a flesh and blood person in the most humble of forms, in a very quiet and humble way so that ultimately He could die for our salvation. All those past years of Christmases singing Away in a Manger I had totally been missing the point. Even reciting Jesus is the Reason for the Season I was still looking toward people to make the holiday special. I'd been depending on people to make the big day merry and bright. I'd completely missed that the whole thing isn't about happy greetings and cheer, the perfect gift or even time spent with family.

Christmas is about thanking Jesus for coming to earth as a babe so that I could live under grace and mercy.

And I feel so inadequate in the way I'm describing my thoughts and realizations. I know I'm not saying it right. I just can't seem to put into words what's actually in my heart.

With all that said, I can truthfully say, this was the most wonderful Christmas Day I've experienced in YEARS. Yes. All those years as a kid with the anticipation of Santa were great and I have some truly beautiful memories of childhood Christmases. I even have some warm memories of adult Christmases spent with family and lots of love. But this year...It was just so plainly altogether lovely. So peaceful...I can't really describe it.

First of all, I realized that nothing I did could make other people live up to my expectations. There would be no Hallmark movie Christmases in my life because the people I love aren't that perfect. The only way to find joy in anything is to look to God. So I dropped some things that I'd done in the past to try to make the day perfect. I let go of the idea that the day even had to be perfect and everyone had to be happy and thoughtful and kind. I woke up that morning and instead of rushing around packing the car with all the gifts and making coconut toast and working myself into a tizzy, I just breathed.

I'd taken the gifts to the folks' house the night before so that I wouldn't have to worry about loading and unloading. All I had to do Christmas morning was roll out of bed, shower and get dressed. After I did all those things, I went and got the DP up. She made a quick trip outside and then she and I opened her gifts. She was so hilariously excited I can't even describe it. I know she's a dog and non-dog/pet owners think it's ridiculous but she got into it as much as any kid I know. She went right to her bag and stuck her head in it and wagged her whole body as I first pulled out a toy and then a new blanket. She played with her toy a moment and then insisted on me unrolling her new blanket so that she could give it a sniff. Then we excitedly opened her brand new package of denta-stix and I gave her one to chew on and the expression "just like Christmas morning" is the only way to describe it.

And so instead of rushing around and sweating it out, Libby and I sat on the couch while she chewed on her denta-stix. We listened to Elvis croon about Christmas while the lights on our tree danced a merry jig. As I stroked her soft fur, I thanked Jesus for His sacrifice and prayed that our day would be joyful and loving. And it was one of the most happy moments of my life. A happy Christmas morning.

Did I mention that I got up at 5am to enjoy all this peace? Yeah.

Emmy, who was at the folks' house with her parents, had told me to be there by six because she wanted me there for her Santa time. And there's no disobeying the twelve-year-old. It's in the aunt handbook.

I'm still amazed at how peaceful that morning was. Libby and I got to the folks' house and Mama and Daddy were the only ones up. And they were both in a good mood! Mama was in the kitchen and Daddy was in his chair and we talked quietly and shared soft laughs over puppy stories and it was great.

Then everyone else got up and the house 'sploded.

Santa brought new movies!



I went to the dogs.



Milo flying off to check things out.

Yes. Santa brought the kid a laptop. I'm officially jealous.



A new robe.



Libby wants to see.



What's in the box?




Twilight, that's what! I'm officially the best aunt EVER.



Wrapping paper makes a snuggly bed.




"It's never too much!"




She's thirteen again.

 After the 'splosion, I went back to my house and changed clothes to get ready for church. It was a nice and blessed respite. Although I did enjoy the morning of gifts and laughter, hermitty me needed a moment.

The church service was really nice. I sang and everyone fell out in the floor in shock because I haven't sung a solo in church since last Christmas. And because I'm just that awesome. The preacher gave a sermon on what Christ's birth actually means and we observed the Lord's Supper...or as some folks call it, "communion."

Then it was back home to change clothes, throw my sweet potato casserole in the oven and then sprint off to Granny's for lunch with our redneck cousins the extended family. My redneck cousins were late getting there so Sis2, Emmy, the two troublemakers, Goofus and I got the good table. Oh, and Mama pulled up a stool and joined us, too, I think. And it was a quiet happy meal where nobody spilled anything.

Serious talk. With an abundance of rolls.

After lunch we went BACK to the folks house and it 'sploded again.

But I'll save those picks for Monday. Ya'll've had enough 'splosions for one day.