Each year I feel a bit sad when taking down the Christmas decorations. Although mixed with an eagerness to resume a semblance of normalcy, there seems an expectation to resolve to be all that you failed to accomplish the year prior, while meanwhile the house looks just a touch less magical. Truly hot chocolate by the fireplace with the twinkling of an illuminated evergreen in the corner carries with it a sense of magic, as though you can be a child again, which is probably why we convince ourselves that the ghastly amount of cookies we consume will somehow cease to expand our waistlines. We’re hoping for a touch of magic.
Except the New Year begins and as though a pair of funhouse spectacles was removed from our eyes, our waists look a bit more plump, our homes a bit less cheery, and our resolutions a touch too desperate. I will admit that I have been known to look at resolutions with a bit of hesitancy, firstly perhaps because I find discipline and self-control (which is what resolutions are, spruced up in party hats and expensive champagne) to be gloriously held in high esteem throughout the year in every facet of life. While I can imagine that not everyone will be quick to match my enthusiasm, we do turn towards self improvement with a bit more willingness come the new year.
Although this year feels a bit different. My quiet sighs as childhood ornaments are put back in their packaging and piles of needles sink into the carpet, are rather replaced with an eager readiness. Not the eagerness that has you tossing at night out of discouraged wondering, but an eagerness much like how I felt as a child on Christmas morning. An anticipation for all that the day would bring. Surely the presents were a sight to behold, wrapped beautifully in dazzling paper with tags thoughtfully written by Mom and Dad, but the moments that surrounded the occasion. Logs on the fire chopped by Father, plates of cookies lovingly made by Mama, Nat King Cole lulling our ears, a spot curled up on the carpet, being together. Of all the Christmases shared with my family, I remember little what I received, and I am sure my parents knew that those memories would indeed fade over time. What we shared in that would impress my little mind with warmth and safety for far longer than the day at hand was every smell, every embrace, every gentle word that shaped the longstanding memory of home.
For some time, even as a young adult, going home for Christmas was incredibly significant to me. With my siblings relatively scattered around the country, we knew that come the end of December, we would each make a strong resolve to be together, particularly as other times of the year proved a touch more difficult to arrange schedules and the like. And though any other time of the year surely would be just as beautiful, the offerings of Christmas were unlike any other, as we were given this sweet sense of being home in the most comforting of ways.
Our family did not gather this year. Travel restrictions and health considerations meant that being together would be far too complicated to arrange, even though I nearly cashed in my points for some flights out east at the very last minute. There is something to be cherished about being able to hold onto a piece of the childhood that was given you. Inside a world of utter dependence, where trust was exercised readily as a habit more than a growth area. We have been diligent to carve out that time of gathering with our own little family, knowing the value we are creating for our girls for what will be years to come. Yet as an adult, and a parent all the more so, those moments together are intentionally crafted and given, not received. At least not in the same way our children receive them, and not in the same way given to me as when I was a child.
Yet therein lies the beauty I have since discovered even now as I write this and as the anticipation of a new year settles in. Yes, much of what 2021 becomes will be shaped by my perspective, my attitude, my ambitions, and even my work ethic. Yet there is much of it that is to be received alongside a willingness to sit in the safety of home. A home with the weight of eternity in its offerings. The child of a Creator who loves thrilling His children with good things. Who has gifts in abundance, even amid unknown challenges, with which I can trustingly take great delight. I have learned a great many number of things in this last year, many of which came from events dictated by several factors outside of myself and my own opinion of what would be ideal. Yet may what I have learned, and the personal maturity it prompted, only serve to see unfold at the proper time what still remains a present wrapped lavishly with its giver. And when the time does come to discover what lies in waiting, just as the patient gifts of an early Christmas morning, I will be able to receive with far more gratitude than was ever before possible.
EXPOSITION: What have you learned in 2020 that added to your personal growth that you can bring with you into the new year?
RISE: Continue in what you have learned, and though surely ambitions and goals will shape this years offerings, first carry with you what you have already received. Then you will be better poised to expectantly anticipate and gratefully receive the plethora of gifts waiting for you in the days ahead.
DENOUEMENT: “Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” – Jesus