A brief conversation with a neighbor went something like this: “Hi. Ready for Christmas?” “Pretty much. You?” “Oh, I still have things to get. It’s a real pain in the *ss. It’s getting to be a bigger pain in the *ss every year.”
Hmmm, I never thought of Christmas as a pain in my *ss. Even when I was harried. Even before I was a Christian. Interesting. She had been caught up in the mad dash to spend money you couldn’t really afford to spend or rack up debt on a credit card it would take at least 6 months of the new year to pay off. It seemed to be a ritual with some people.
Me? I've always loved Christmas. Even with the crowds and the grumpy shoppers and the long lines and the traffic gridlock by the malls. I love the colors of Christmas. The reds, greens, whites and gold’s with a splash of black to accent the collage of colors. I love the carols … the true carols of Christmas, not the modern substitutes. It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, The First Noel, Silent Night, O Little Town of Bethlehem … I grew up hearing them sung by Eddie Arnold, Sergio Franchi, Gordon MacRae, Robert Goulet or played by Andre Kostelanetz, Montovani or Percy Faith. I love everything about the Christmas season. Pain in the *ss? Never.
Lost in the madness is the Christ child, born in a manger. The reason for the season. Without Christ, is life truly worth living at all? What is the point of life without hope and how can anyone have even a glimmer of hope without redemption? rlk
