Keep me searching for a Heart of Gold
Christmas time:
- a time to cook Christmas birds,
- a time to put up and decorate the tree, rotating from year to year, who in the family is given the chance to put the top of the Christmas tree branch up the beautiful angel's bottom,
- a time to spend with your loved ones and extended family,
- a time to give all those planned and pretty gifts and maybe a few last minute bottles of quickly dressed wine.
All sounds magical and exciting although this time of year doesn't always go as well as we plan.
Fighting crowds of crazy Christmas shoppers is one of those difficult things for some. Christmas shopping can get a little overwhelming and fustrating at the best of times; such a mission. Finding a car park, trying to stick to the intricate and detailed scribblings of a well thought out list of gifts. Flipping out over what to get the in-laws yet again. You're thinking that, out of desperation, a bottle of Shiraz is going to cut it. Waiting in the lines for ages, wishing the person in front of you would move at a 'quick-sticks' pace only then witness them forgetting to grab some 'sticky' and frantically wander around aimlessly for another ten minutes. Then getting home to wrap, realising you've forgotten someone or the kids' presents are not in even ratio!
Not properly being a part of your own family Christmas is a bit dissapointing too. Whether you're apart by great waters or by the Nullarbor, it's never uplifting missing out on your own unique family jokes, family quirks and family appreciation. You end up being politely invited to several other family Christmases; but that's never the same is it? You're not involved in their family jokes or family quirks, no matter how hard the explanation.
Some of us have family during this time and it is always a hoot; always comforting and as Hallmark would have imagined it. Around to mum's place for Christmas dinner, only to be greeted by a big fat flashy Santa at the fakely snowed door step. Mum's wearing a Christmas apron with "Kiss the Christmas Cook" on the front. Generations of tacky popsicle stick santa houses and paper doily angels all over the pine Christmas tree. Lunch tradition followed by present unwrapping and an afternoon of game-filled fun.
The flip side of course is that some of us really struggle to be around the ones we love or want to love. It's a strain being in the same room. An effort to buy for those with everything but Jesus, a hairy kiss awaiting your departure.
The relaxed nature of the eating and the drinking - you've noticed Uncle Jeff's tidley on his fourth 'special Christmas flavoured brandy' and bargain with him into a water for the fifth. The awkward "Do we or don't we or how do we" honour the birthday boy on his glorious day in front of the Athiest relos. The brother and sister-in-laws with nothing in common. Participating in the other side of the family's traditions. Wrapping up old and used items as a joke, you will never understand it but promised before leaving to put on a brave face for the whole two hours of enduring it. You leave having to explain it to the kids with enthusiasm on the way home.
No matter what your Christmas looks like, it should be wrapped up in the message of Jesus. For he was born to die and teach us what it actually means to love the unlovable and how to love the loved even more.
I know it seems like the cliche annual Christmas message, but really what do we end up being consumed with?
Fustration, disapointment, pushing of limits to meet the commercial demands and the demands of the family and maybe a little joy through the end. How about a new attitude this year? How about one that says "I'm going to be totally rebellious." Find freedom in the chores of Christmas past. Be empowered to give a little extra to Kmart's Christmas tree offering. Buy the difficult relo a card from Zimbabwe and explain the work and the urgency that goes into that need. It's close enough to our hearts to be able to bang on about it and fill in the awkwardness. Take this year to teach someone about the Message. What a time to rejoice! What a time to love!
So, I encourage you rebellious bad girls of religion to break out, get in there, get messy and get exhausted spreading what Christmas needs to be about.
Bad girl number 28379303, signing out with shoes of eagerness. Ultimate cowgirl in the sand.
