Sunny Side Up Dec. 20, 2006 �2006, Kathleen Gibson Avoiding that Christmas meltdown Last year, as I scurried about the house on Christmas Eve, preparing food and more food and even more food, the Preacher came into the kitchen to talk. Then he made the mistake of hugging me. As his arms circled my waist, he discovered something I'd hoped to hide. In the privacy of my kitchen, I'd been having my own personal meltdown. That's right. Nearly at the pinnacle of the season that ought to fill Christ's followers with immeasurable joy, there I was, sobbing into the celery. Ululating onto the onions. Snivelling into the sage. And wailing into whatever else I was preparing to stuff into my unfortunate turkey. The poor man tried to cheer me. It didn't work. Frustrated, he asked, "What's wrong?" "I don't know," I bawled. "I just�.HATE Christmas, that's what!" He slunk out, not liking Christmas much himself, I suppose. Because when the one who's responsible to set the tone of the Christmas house, to buy or make, to wrap, deliver or send presents east and west and center, to bake the goodies and cook the meal and entertain the guests - when she's not happy, ain't nobody happy, as the saying goes. I shared that little fiasco with you only because I've already given it a practice run. I 'fessed up to a small gathering of women who meet yearly in late November or early December to prepare hearts and minds for Christmas. "I'm so glad you told us that," said a friend-she of constant smile and almost irritating invincibility. "I was beginning to think I was the only one." Well, pigs fly after all, I thought, especially when almost every other woman confessed to feeling the same way. Often. I don't hate Christmas, really, and neither do they, I imagine. The problem, we realized during our discussion, is that the way we choose to celebrate it denies us one of this holy season's most enticing promises - the gift of Peace. Those who follow Christ ought to be alarmed by how easily we let the peace of Christ escape from our hearts at Christmas. It dissolves into the 'must do's' and the 'have you done's' and the 'But we always's'. It fades into feasting (always a poor substitute for spiritual nutrition) and drains in our debt. And before we know it, the Prince of Peace gets wound up in worry, smothered by seasonal sensations. One woman among us sat quietly listening to us complain about the extra work, the bills, the frustrations. Then she said, "You know, since we gave up giving each other gifts at Christmas, none of us would ever go back to the old way." Judy's family has also given up traditional Christmas meals, and opts for something different each year. Once they roasted hot dogs. Judy's affirmative action has helped melt her meltdowns. Perhaps more of us should follow her lead. Even if it means a changed menu and fewer presents. Christ's peace, after all, is a gift most precious. Respond Home |
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