Christmas Thoughts

I was listening to my list of Christmas songs during the kiddos' naps.

Things were still.

I was still.

And a thought occured to me.

My favorite secular Christmas tunes have a hint of melancholy about them. Maybe melancholy is too strong- longing then. "I'll be Home for Christmas," "White Christmas," so on. As I thought further (a rare occurence during this stage of my life), I began to really think about Christmas itself. A night of God's awesome display of his love. But the often overlooked part, a baby born to die.

For me.

For you.

"Jingle Bells" and "Rudolph" have their place, I suppose, but this season I find them jarring and something akin to attempting to make a shallow smile substitute for the majesty and bittersweet arrival of Jesus. The world tells us Christmas is a "happy time" yet happy seems so trivial. I love Christmas not because it makes me happy but because of the humbling joy as I ponder God's greatest show of love.

To sacrifice His son.

The older I get, the more I accept genuine emotion over the "I'm fine" attitude. I'm not airing out my dirty laundry for all the neighbors to see or bawling in the line at Target, instead, I realize that a life lived on the surface is just that-surface. Life is layered. Just like the arrival of Baby Jesus. Mary held her sweet baby in her arms only to watch him suffer acutely to the point of death in the apathetic, calloused hands of the Romans.

My layers are many this Christmas season. Joy at His arrival, weeping at his excruciating sacrifice, hope that He has given me. All wrapped up in swaddling cloth laid in a manger.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born