The weary world rejoices

Welcoming Christmas and seeking rest.

The most exhausted I felt this year coincided with being the happiest I felt.

It was one of the last days of our Orlando vacation. We had spent four or five days (they blur) at Disney World, bouncing from park to park, riding roller coasters, seeing shows and building memories. After that, we spent two days at Universal Studios doing much the same. It was great; the kids loved it, and my wife and I loved it.

But on our final day, after powering through two connected parks, eating delicious junk food, getting soaked on water rides and pummeling ourselves on roller coasters, I was ready to drop. We walked out of the park to the boat back to the hotel, and my feet throbbed. I couldn’t think straight. I was thirsty, hungry and sun sick. It wasn’t even that late; the Universal parks all closed before sundown. My wife and kids wanted to go swimming. I couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm to float. They went down to the pool and I collapsed on the bed, reveling in the opportunity to lay motionless.

It’s hard work to be happy.

Christmas is approaching. As often happens, the Advent season has financially stressed us and the constant running has worn us out. We’ve been buried in Amazon boxes and burned out our eyes double-checking lists. We’ve bounced from family event to family event, sighing in relief when we reach a rare day where there are no plans. The kids will love their gifts. We will enjoy spending time with family and friends. But, as usual, the weeks preceding the holiday seem designed to wring us out.

It’s hard work to be happy.

Just over a week ago, a magazine that I worked on was printed. I wrote nearly every page of it, including four feature stories. We did it on an extremely tight schedule. I’m more proud of that publication than nearly anything I’ve ever worked on. Although I love my job and am very thankful for it, and I accomplished a great deal this year, it was a struggle. It was a busy, rushed and often uncertain year as we adjusted to new leadership, new challenges and new ways of working. I’m proud, but I’m also exhausted and burned out. I need the upcoming two-week break.

It’s hard work to be happy.

I watched 161 movies this year. Including this post, I wrote 128 entries in this newsletter. I’m making (a small amount of) money from it. Our critics group awarded a series of great movies, and my subscriber base has more than doubled over the last 12 months. I have new ideas for 2025, and a book project I’m starting to spitball. I’m proud of what this site has done and I look forward to continuing this conversation. But at the moment, I have very few words left in me.

It’s hard work to be happy.

I’m going to spend the next two weeks with my family. The next few days will be filled with gatherings. We’ll do some dad and kid days while my wife works the first week of the year, and we’ll take a family trip. I’ve been blessed. But it’s been a hard year. Sports, school, work and church schedules run us ragged. We struggle to keep the house clean and maintained. There’s been drama and illness in our family. We enter 2025 uncertain about many things, not to mention anxious about a future in which our country is re-entering tumultuous waters. We enjoy the moments we’re together and appreciate that quiet and joy because we know that’s too often a respite, not the reality of the moment.

It’s hard work to be happy.

Today was the fourth Sunday of Advent. We celebrated at a church that has become our home over the last year. Both of my children were baptized there in 2024. I was confirmed there earlier this month. I’ve served communion and my wife often sings up front. We’ve made good friends. But at the back of our mind is an awareness that we’ve arrived at this new home because we nearly left the faith after the tradition in which we had grown up was curdled in capitalism, consumerism, politics, patriarchy and culture wars. I’ve had to unlearn things and embrace mysteries that are beautiful but often uncomfortable. I’ve had to lean into a vulnerability and spiritual uncertainty that was previously foreign to me. I’m thankful for it. I’m also tired.

It’s hard work to be happy.

One of my favorite Christmas hymns is “O Holy Night.” I’ve always loved the line “a thrill of hope,” so much so that I often forget the phrase that follows, “the weary world rejoices.”

I am weary. Maybe you are too. Happiness is hard work. It’s hard work because it’s ephemeral. Vacations end. Jobs are toil. Family brings stress. Congregations will disappoint. And so we strive to hold on to those things that make us joyful for a fleeting moment. But too often, we identify those things as the sources of true happiness. I place my worth in what I produce. I seek meaning in leisure and my joy in friends and family, saddling them with burdens they were never meant to bear. They can never truly make us unendingly happy because they were never meant to be where happiness was found. They are good things, not ultimate things. And that’s why our constant striving will continually disappoint.

Christmas is the reminder that we don’t have to wear ourselves out looking for joy, meaning and peace. We don’t have to search love out; love has come to us. We don’t have to prove ourselves; the baby in the manger did what we could not. We don’t have to earn God’s acceptance; the incarnation is proof that we were accepted before the foundations of the earth. Christmas tells us to stop working and to start resting. To stop worrying about what we need and rejoice in the fact that God knew and God came to quiet our toil and rest in His peace.

A thrill of hope. The weary world rejoices.

I’m taking a break after today. I’m off work for a few weeks and I’m going to try to quiet an overactive brain. Maybe I’ll watch some movies; maybe I’ll just enjoy some silence, catch up on sleep and prepare for what’s next. I’ll be back sometime in January.

Thank you for reading Chrisicisms this year. I hope this Christmas finds you and your loved ones well. I hope you enjoy time with family and friends, create memories that last a lifetime, and savor the hope, peace and joy around which this season is centered. God bless you all.

Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. I’ll see you all in 2025.