Christmas Past
One year I received a pair of rollerblades which I wore inside all day, rolling through the house with a loud whir that I know now must have driven my Mom crazy. Another year, I woke on Christmas morning to find a set of inflatable furniture - I giggle every time I imagine my Mom and Dad struggling to blow that stuff up in the middle of the night. Then there was the year that my sister and I were gifted a karaoke machine and a set of 90’s country karaoke CD’s. For the next few days, my sister and I alternated between karaoke-ing “Wide Open Spaces” and “Strawberry Wine” over and over until my Mom made us choose new songs.
As I got older, Christmas magic became less gift-driven and more centered around individual moments. One year we woke up to a foot of snow and had a huge snowball fight in the yard at my Grandparent’s house. There was the first year I didn’t make it home on Christmas Eve - Matt and I had just begun dating. We spent the evening around the tree together and everything felt quiet and calm. The world outside the front door was still. There was one year, when Camille was still too small to notice, that we decided we were too exhausted to decorate at all - and I remember sitting on the couch looking at the corner where the tree would have gone, cluttered with baby toys, noting that somehow, despite the lack of a tree, it still felt like Christmas.
“Which Christmas was the saddest, the happiest, the one that took you by surprise? Recall, and thank God for those holy moments.”
I could keep going. I could tell you about my first Christmas in ministry, sitting in the balcony at Hayes Barton. I could tell you about Christmases since Camille was born. I could tell you about the lights and the candles and the excitement. Thirty-one years worth of warm memories that belong to me - memories that no one remembers quite the way I do.
And you could tell me about your favorite Christmas moments, too. The funny, the picturesque, the bittersweet. They’re all held together for you, somewhere in your memory - suspended in the mysterious dark matter that must be holiness - these pictures that God has taken for you and tucked safely away for you to dust off every now and then.
I encourage you to take a moment to remember. What was the best gift you ever received? The best gift you ever gave? One particular moment with one particular person? Which Christmas was the saddest, the happiest, the one that took you by surprise? Recall, and thank God for those holy moments.
I hope this Christmas is full of the good stuff you’ll remember for years to come. I hope that the magic hasn’t dissipated just yet. May we recognize this Christmas magic for what it is: an unexpected, unexplainable, gift of grace.
