Tomorrow is New Year’s Day. I decided to take down the Christmas decorations this afternoon. I have to work tomorrow and given what’s going on with my job right now, I never know what will get tossed on my plate so I better complete this task today.
As I begin, anxiety rears its ugly head. What’s with that? All I’m doing is taking down Christmas ornaments, bows, candles, and all manner of lovely, glittery bling.
Maybe it’s due in part to the touch of intestinal virus I’ve been experiencing the past few days. Nausea that comes and goes and now the runs. Feeling unwell has never contributed to my sense of emotional well-being.
Here are a few other ideas as to the root of my angst and potential funk:
- We had to postpone our holiday plans as a family due to my brother and sis-in-law suffering from a vicious case of the flu. Yes, I’d like a little meat with that whine. And a violin–no, make that two.
- Last year I decorated my own apartment for Christmas but this year, I’m living with my mom. Oh, it’s better for me financially; I lost my apartment through no fault of my own. (Of course, nothing is EVER my fault. But really, this wasn’t. But forgive me. I digress) Mom and I get along great but I miss my independence and doing things my way. Hey, you’re all invited to my pity party. Plenty of tissues to go around–lotion enhanced too.
- Taking down all those pretty decorations seems like I am losing that Christmas cheer and goodwill that joyously infects people (well, lots of people at least) this time of year. It feels as if I’m giving up something precious and special–going back to the same old decor I have up the rest of the year–the same old day to day grind. The cold, lonely bleakness of winter is encroaching. And I don’t even suffer from SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder.)
Okay. So those are my ruminations (According to the Merriman-Webster online dictionary rumination means, “to think carefully and deeply about something.” It also means, “of an animal: to bring up and chew again what has already been chewed and swallowed.” Ahhhh, right.
I pack my cute little Nativity candle set that looks a little like Hummel figurines. (They’re not. They’re wax. I can’t afford Hummel figurines) I wrap each piece carefully in tissue to protect them from chipping or scratching. I will keep them in my bedroom closet rather than the attic. Otherwise, they’ll melt into sad little lumps in the summer heat.
I discovered several weeks ago that the Baby Jesus figurine is the only one without a wick. I suppose the creator of the set was making a point: You aren’t allowed to destroy Baby Jesus–therefore, no wick. He’s sacred. Darn! I knew there was a reason why I felt guilty when I cut up that twenty-year-old Jesus/Messiah t-shirt for cleaning rags! You should never destroy representations of the Savior.
Which brings me to my most important point. At Christmas time, at least in this country, you can find nativity scenes everywhere–on private property, or public property where they’ve been able to hide it from ACLU fanatics.
We enjoy them, we even act out the Christmas story with real people and maybe real animals. (Love the kind with the real animals. Can we make next year’s a petting zoo too?) And Baby Jesus is usually a doll but sometimes a real baby, hopefully when the Nativity scene is indoors where it’s warm.
And then, we put everything away until next year and go about our merry way.
But what about the baby? What do we do with him? I mean the real baby Jesus, the one whose birth more than two thousand years ago inspired the holiday. Do we say, “oh, isn’t that manger scene nice,” and then completely forget or don’t understand that he’s a whole lot more than just a sweet, cuddly infant?
He is a Man who is very much alive and wants to live in our hearts, to ground us deeply in his unfathomable love. (Ephesians 3:16-19) That sweet manger became a gory cross, one of the most brutal forms of execution ever dreamed up by the evil minds of men. “Gentle Jesus meek and mild,” seemed so only in that he “opened not his mouth,” as he was led away to slaughter, the sacrificial Lamb of God. (Isaiah 53:7)
And he did it all to take the penalty for our selfishness, our rebellion our going our own way.
(Isaiah 53:6)
But that wasn’t the end. He was and is the master of life and death. He said he could lay down his own life and take it up again. (John 10:18) He said that whoever believed in and received him would have eternal life. (John 3:16) And then he kicked in the gates of hell and robbed sin, death and the grave of their power. (1 Corinthians 15:53-56) He became the mighty Lion of Judah that defeated Satan, the lion that prowls about seeking to destroy and devour. (1 John 3:8, Revelation 5:5) And that same giver of life can dwell in us and give life to our mortal bodies if we so wisely choose to receive him. (Romans 8:11)
So what are we going to do with the baby Jesus? Put him away until next December (or November if you’re an early bird) and then take him out again, put him where he will just be a nice decoration, no demands, no decisions, no submission, no deer caught in the headlights awe over his incredible love?
Or will we put him away this year knowing that this baby Jesus is The Man, alive and all-powerful and oh so real, who not only died and rose but one day will establish his throne on the earth? As we celebrate the new year, let’s determine to worship and love and follow him in 2015 as the Lord and God that he is. That sense of the precious, of the special, can be with us forever.
I just realized I didn’t take down my Christmas cards.
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