Blue Christmas
The holidays are difficult for those of us adjusting to the single life after years of marriage. When Christmas rolls around, I feel like I’m running a mad race to ensure precious memories for my children. Family memories feel all the more important when you carry the weight of a broken marriage. You worry about leaving a legacy of fractured family to your kids. If I don’t make each holiday count, my boy’s will never have the childhood they deserve. Right? My children will be deprived forever and I will be written up in the book of failed mothers for all eternity. If there is a book out there with that title in the heavenly realm, I know I’m featured in it. There’s a lot of pressure we put on ourselves around the holidays. Hallmark movies and HGTV don’t help either in assuaging our sense of failure. They create material expectations for the season that feature gorgeous people, million dollar homes, and lavish Christmas parties. These shows are pure fantasy and leave an acidic aftertaste. In the meantime, I’m struggling to pull a tangled mass of Christmas lights from a dusty crate. After hours of untangling knots and finally finding the plug in, I realize without surprise that they no longer work. Despite what my mom keeps telling me, my life is no Hallmark movie.
In truth, even when I was married, I did most of the work of decorating, present shopping, and cooking. In many homes the work of Christmas falls squarely in the woman’s domain, yet at the time I didn’t allow the work of Christmas to become an excuse to steal my joy. I was excited about creating memories and building a future with my family. I didn’t mind the work.
This Christmas, my second holiday as a single woman, my first impulse was to do absolutely nothing. I mean nothing—no tree, no decorations…Why go to all the effort? Maybe I can just pretend Christmas isn’t happening at all. As my neighbors begin putting up their Christmas lights a couple weeks ago, I felt resentment and anger building. In the past I was always willing to do the work of Christmas because of my own childhood memories. I visualized my family gathered around the table, the presentation of sensational food, and the anticipation of receiving or giving a gift. I wanted to make my own memories with my family. I’m really not a Grinch at heart. I actually love Christmas. What I don’t like is feeling alone and sad, because I’ve allowed Christmas to become a memorial to the past. Because…I’ve lost hope.
We can get lost in our present circumstances and in the commercialism and superficiality of a cultural Christmas, one that tries to deny the story behind the glory. In the spiritual sense, Christmas is actually the ultimate expression of hope. We live in a dark world, where often the most selfish and basest instincts of mankind triumph. “For unto us a child is born.” Into the darkness of humanity, God came down as a child. God himself was a vulnerable babe and came into the reality of our world to experience every aspect of human life, its joys, and its sufferings. Jesus’ death and resurrection were the ultimate expression of triumph over the worst this world has to dish out and this is the hope that we cling to in the midst of the storm.
Christmas should be an expression of joy, complete excitement over the hope that God promises to bring into the world, the triumph of good over evil. Jesus’ entry into the world is worth a celebration. Decorating the house and preparing for the greatest hope of all is certainly worth the effort. Perhaps the work that needs to be done this year is on my attitude.
This year’s Christmas celebration will be humble. I don’t have the budget or ability to make my house look like a movie set. But, as I sit in the dark, basking in the glow of the firelight staring at the lit Christmas tree, I will remember that the best gift I can give my children is to fill their world with joy and hope which builds resilience and strength for the challenges life will bring. That is a legacy worth leaving. I will remember the most important gift I have is my faith in Jesus and the hope he provides even on the coldest wintry night.
