The Christmas season has arrived. Thanksgiving has come and gone and now we can officially begin to listen to Christmas music and unpack our Christmas decorations. We had a Christmas party at our apartment the other night during which I made sugar cookies, with the help of Jess, and watched Seth ruin some powdered sugar frosting that he managed to turn gray with too many drops of food coloring while Anna, Vonda and Shanna set up the tree. This event sparked an interesting conversation in our house that night about the meaning of Christmas. This conversation has been weighing heavily on my mind since that night.
Living in a culture that does not even recognize Christmas- specifically the birth of our Savior- means that I have to make a conscious choice to think about the birth of Christ. Unlike America, I am not surrounded by Christmas saturation. I do not have the constant Christmas reminders such as holiday themed television commercials, candy cane flavored chocolates or Christmas sweaters to purchase. There is no Christmas music telling of the coming of Jesus playing on the radio. Save the few decorations in our house and the reminder that it is winter, contrary to our current 60 degree temperatures, by the winter décor on my Starbucks cup there are no reminders that over 2000 years ago Salvation came to earth. Over these last four months I have realized on a whole new level the importance of His birth. Our salvation came to us in the form of a baby. A baby who entered the world in a humble fashion, lying in a manger wrapped in swaddling cloths. A baby who knew from the beginning His purpose on earth was to die for me and you.
At this moment I think that not having the reminders of Christmas- if you can even call them reminders of Christmas because in all reality they are reminders of materialism and Santa- is a good thing. The roomies that night were discussing how heart wrenching it is that it took us being removed from America to begin to really evaluate the importance of Christmas. If I were to be honest with myself Christ has hardly been the focus of my Christmas the past 23 years of my life. Even today I fight to make him the center of my Christmas. The parties, gifts and good food waiting for me in America often take first place in the fight for Sarah’s devotion at Christmas time. Yet I know that none of this compares to the surpassing greatness of that babe in a manger who came to save me. I shove Him to the side wondering how many presents will be under that tree for me. Wow, that is a dirty, ugly truth- just trying to be real people. Christ’s birth is the event that forever shaped time, the beginning of the reason why I am assured eternal life and is the reason why I am in another country and yet I have spent 23 years making it priority number two.
This Christmas I want things to be different; therefore, I am in the process of brainstorming ways to make Christ the center of my Christmas celebration. THE reason for the season- so cliché, but true. For one thing, I want to find out the origins of why we even recognize Christ’s birth on December 25th and maybe find out some of the reasoning, besides sin, for the shift from recognizing a babe in a manger come to save the world to an old man coming down a chimney with bags of toys for boys and girls. Let the research begin!
Joy to the world, the Lord has come. Let earth receive her King. Let every heart prepare Him room. Let heaven and nature sing!
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