“What are you doing for Christmas?” is the common question you hear in these weeks leading up to the holiday.
I love listening to how different people celebrate in their own family style. Friends of mine go camping every year in the Florida Keys, some make the trek to their childhood home in the snowy Midwest, others wait for all of their Northern family to arrive from far flung locations.
The best question I heard recently during a church sermon was “how can you be Christmas?” I love how it puts you into the present — living out the celebration of the birth of our Savior right now.
My mom was so good at being Christmas. It was almost to the point of annoyance how much she loved the holiday. Looking back on her situation while growing up, she had no real reason to be Christmas. She was a divorced single mom, raising five children mostly on her own in a falling apart, old Victorian home, costing a fortune to heat. It was always a worry what we could afford for gifts or how we would manage to celebrate at all. Yet she carried this unconquerable sense of excitement and hope for the joy of Christmas. And every year, she was right.
I think sometimes I make Christmas too hard or too much. Without really meaning to, I strive to create some crazy unrealistic holiday. Starting with finding the exact right charity, the perfect presents, the best meal to create amazing memories for our family. Seriously, it doesn’t need to be so much.
Instead of thinking about how I can “do Christmas” with December 25 as the culmination, I’m going to think about how I can “be Christmas” every day until then. Maybe this means being a good listener to a friend instead of changing the subject to my priorities. Or notice that a neighbor loves tea and surprising her with a seasonal flavor. Perhaps it means picking up the phone to talk to a loved one instead of emailing or texting. For me, I think it means creating a space to let love show up, however that looks.
My mom is in heaven now, but I can carry on her heart for Christmas. I too can carry the everyday hope of our Savior’s birth, despite how the world looks on the surface. I can remember the unconquerable joy that defined my mom’s life. I can decide to be Christmas this year by treasuring the goodness each day brings.
Cara McLauchlan
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