The Christmas Spirit

There's a whole lot working against me in my fight for "the Christmas spirit" this year. 
1.  I'm staying in Florida, not Chicago, which means:

• missing family
• no cold
• no snow
• no Nutcracker Ballet
• no traditions I've built for the last 28 years

2.  I have added stress, both financial and logistical, because we are down to one car.
3.  I have entirely lost my voice.  It's not scratchy, hoarse, or even, as Hband calls it, "Rusty."  It is gone and I am mute but for whispers, which means:

• no Christmas singing Christmas carols, something I wait until after Thanksgiving to do and relish for a whole month
• no reading Christmas stories to my classes

4. I have abandoned traditions because my heart isn't in it, such as:

• Playing "A Muppet Christmas Carol" for my students
• Having an "It's a Wonderful Life" party
• Cranking up "The Nutcracker Suite"

To be perfectly honest, I don't feel Christmas-y at all.  The usual joy and anticipation I feel are pretty much gone.  It's not that I'm not happy to be here.  I have a wonderful husband, and his family (which is now my family) and I will have some wonderful celebrations-- anyone ever heard of the Italian tradition of a seafood Christmas Eve dinner smorgasbord?!  But I look outside and it's warm and tropical.  I haven't been listening to my Christmas music because it makes me sad that I can't sing along.  I think about Christmas morning and it makes me sad that my parents won't be there.

Have any other newlyweds felt a twinge of sadness at this change?  I think I might have even felt it if I were living in Chicago with Hband in our own place, because I still wouldn't be waking up at my parents' house and clambering down the stairs to enjoy the bounty under the tree and in the kitchen.  It's just a lot all at once, I guess.

And so I don't have the Christmas spirit, as they say.

Then I hear Charlie Brown say, "Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is really about?"  Followed shortly thereafter by Linus' reply: "Sure Charlie Brown.  I'll tell you what Christmas is all about."  And he recites from Luke 2.

So maybe this year needn't be about the snow, the cold, the Christmas carols, the traditions-- but rather about what it's REALLY about anyway.  Maybe if I focus on why we celebrate this day: the birth of God made flesh-- Jesus Christ, I will feel Christmas-y, in the best kind of way. 

It's so easy to let everything else (good things, even) become more important than the most important thing ever: Jesus Christ, the Savior of my sins.

So that's my goal this year: I want to enjoy Christmas for what it really is, and then maybe the other stuff will fall in line.  I have much to be thankful for and enjoy this Christmas; not the least of which is my salvation.  I pray that will be what puts me in the Christmas spirit this year.  I pray that for you, too.

Meanwhile, here are some kind of cruddy pictures of my holiday trimmings.  I promise they look better in person.

 our Christmas Dachshund train, from Mike's mom, and my sparkly pine cone lights from Bestie :)

  

 our DIY sparkly Christmas banner in the dining room

 A close up of the garland.

 Above the desk

My DIY canvases... didn't turn out as planned, but sufficient

 Above the e-center

 Hahahaha... watching "Seinfeld, of course

Notice we have our stockings hung here, including Lucia's little one!

Our living room-- not fancy, but Christmasy

 our little tree

 some special ornaments :)

our new sparkly sign

xoxo, A

Thoughts for Thursday: My Epitaph

Not to be dark and dreary, but have you ever thought about what you'd have written on your tombstone?  When I was little, because of Halloween decorations I used to think that every tombstone had to say how that person died.  So, being a klutzy child, I was afraid I'd die in an embarrassing way, and then it would be recorded for the rest of Earth's days.  Maybe something like:

"Here lies Amanda.  She died of asphyxiation on the toilet."  or "RIP Amanda.  She rolled her ankle one too many times, and this time into traffic."

I don't know why I thought that.  What got me thinking unseasonably about epitaphs was a chapter I read in Slave by John MacArthur.  I'm going through the book with a dear friend (we've gone through many, and each one kicks our butts!), and we were reading about John Newton, the runaway/slave trader turned minister/song writer.  Think you don't know who he is?  Think again; if you've ever sung "Amazing Grace," you've sung one of his hymns.  His live was a powerful example of God's sovereign plan and grace, and if you haven't read about him, I encourage you to do so.  According to the book, his epitaph read like so:

JOHN NEWTON, Clerk

once an Infidel and Libertine,

a Servant of Slaves in Africa,

was, by the rich mercy

of our Lord and Saviour

JESUS CHRIST,

preserved, restored, pardoned,

and appointed to preach the faith

he had long laboured to destroy

Beautiful, isn't it?  But so humble and so rich in truth.  It made me think about what I'd want etched on my tombstone.  Nothing about just me, because anything I am or have is due to Christ.  I'd like it to be a final, permanent testimony to Jesus' sacrifice and work in my life; a way for me tell others about salvation from "beyond the grave."  Well at least, quite literally, from the grave.  And if that's what I want my tombstone to say, I'd better make sure I'm living that now. 

Perhaps this is too dark for a Thursday, but I think it's important.  It's important to think about what kind of legacy we want to leave-- not just what we etch in stone, but what we leave behind as memories of our conduct, as testimonies to our God.  I hope mine is something a little like Newton's.  What about you?

xoxo, A