Confessions of a Christmas Grinch

Confessions of a Christmas Grinch

            December 25th is almost at our doorstep and I still haven’t caught the Christmas spirit. I must have boxed it up along with the remnants of last year’s ornaments. Given that it’s 70 degrees outside and sunny, it’s not surprising I haven’t caught Christmas fever. A few snowflakes and some twinkling lights might help but I'll probably have to wait a while.

            It also doesn’t help that I have a houseful of surly teenagers who don’t see the point in stringing lights along the front of the house, nor want to trim the tree. So far, I’ve managed to threaten them with skipping Christmas altogether if they don’t help out a bit. All that’s gotten me is a bare tree standing in the living-room, waiting for someone to hang a few lights and ornaments. The cats love it, chasing each other up the tree till they dangle from the small branches at the top, then wonder how to get back down again.

            Last night we tried to string a few lights, but several bulbs went out as soon as we started the process of winding them around the tree. Consequently, the faint Christmas music floating in from the kitchen was drowned out by a chorus of groans and strains of “why do we have-to…..” I was half tempted to grab two of them by the collar and plonk them beside the elf on the shelf. At least he’d be able to give them a few pointers on how to be quiet. Funny thing is, the one with autism was actually quite compliant and helpful.

            There used to be a time when preparing for the holidays was actually fun. Baking cookies, then trying to fill the tins before everyone ate them up; reminiscing over each ornament as we pulled them from the boxes, then trying to find just the right spot on our tree – not too high where we couldn’t see them, not too low where the cats could knock them down.

            Yet, as the boys grow older, it’s becoming more stressful than enjoyable. No one wants to bake or decorate. Even I’ve lost interest in it this year. I’d skip Christmas altogether if it weren’t for Benjamin. He still experiences the joy and excitement of setting up the Christmas village with all its miniature people and tiny houses. He's still excited at the thought of waking up on Christmas morning to find colorful packages stacked under the tree.

            So, I try not to dwell on my grinchy attitude and focus on making it another memorable Christmas, one we’ll look back on, and remember the joys rather than the not-so-good moments. I guess Christmas with surly teenagers is God’s way of preparing me for an empty nest. I know there will come a day when I won’t have any reason to decorate. The boys will have their own families and traditions, and Len and I will wake up to an empty house on Christmas morning.

            On the other hand, this year I’ve had plenty of time to dwell on what Christmas is truly about; God’s advent into our world – a deliberate choice arising from his incredible, sacrificial love for humanity. It must have been a sober moment in heaven when God the Father sent his Son to earth, knowing he would have to die for the sins of the world.

            Christmas isn’t all about trees, decorations and cookies. It’s about Christ, coming to our world to live among us and to die for us. It’s about a season of silent reflection as we prepare to receive Christ into our world, our lives, our homes.

            There will be plenty of time to celebrate and experience the joys of the season once Christmas draws nearer. In the meantime, I’ll keep hoping for a few snowflakes, more cooperative teenagers and a heart that focuses less on my long to-do list and more on the baby in Bethlehem.

            Merry Christmas from our home to yours.