Dark December?

"I was walking through Marshall's the other day, and I saw the Christmas displays, and I began to feel that familiar dread." Someone said these words to me recently, and I knew exactly the dread he spoke of. He mentioned the pressure of buying gifts for everyone. "You don't know what to buy; you don't know what they want or need; you don't know how much to spend. If they appear to spend more on you than you do on them, you feel cheap. It's this big guessing game, and it's not fun! Then on Christmas day when everyone is saying, 'Isn't this GREAT," you envision the cash register!"

We all know this is not how it's supposed to be. Satan has highjacked Christmas (Thanksgiving too, but I'll save that for another day.) To be honest, I'm not exactly sure why I feel the holiday gloom. But I do feel it. As the days begin to get shorter, and I hear the inane "45 days 'til Christmas," or some other idiotic comment, I begin to notice the anxiety. Actually, I don't have exactly the same pressures my friend expressed, but somehow I have a hard time feeling festive. For one thing we have simplified in recent years. We haven't continued traditions that weren't working. But still...there always seems to be too many places to go, too many things to do.

I was whining to myself about this all week-end. After all, all this talk about black Friday and gray Thursday and cyber Monday is enough to send anyone into the abyss! And would you believe some over-achieving smart aleck even sent us a Christmas picture already!

So yesterday I took my place at the organ. We sang, "Emmanuel," and I was barely aware of what we were singing. Then we turned to "Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus," and I began to think about all those masses of faithful people who for all those centuries trusted God to keep His promise to send a Redeemer. My heart began to soften a little. Then came "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" and "Let's Worship and Adore Him." Still, I was only vaguely aware that God was trying to nudge my cold heart. Then the choir began to sing "Our King Has Come," a song I had never heard. They soared to lofty heights to "REJOICE, REJOICE! and quieted almost to a whisper as a reminder that our King has indeed come. I felt my throat tighten and the tears collecting behind my eyes. "Stop this, Barbara; think of something else; you know your nose gets red and you get a headache when you cry, so cut it out!" But I couldn't help it. The Holy Spirit was reminding me that shopping and gift-giving and Christmas cards and black Friday and cash registers and busy schedules were all so much foolishness. I MUST not let these things that don't matter, absolutely do NOT matter, steal the sheer joy that I should feel when I realize that God Himself came in the flesh to live among us. But not for the purpose of giving us a holiday to celebrate. No, He came to offer Himself as payment for a debt that I could never pay. And then He went to the trouble to draw me to Himself, to show me that I am a sinner totally unable to rescue myself, and offer me that supernatural gift of eternal salvation. Now THAT is a thought to banish the blues! REJOICE!