I’m going to keep this brief. It’s Christmas Eve, and you have better things to do than read my ramblings (and if you’re reading this at a family gathering, I implore you: turn off your phone, enjoy time with your loved ones, and read it later. This should be a screen-free day).Â
But I didn’t want the day to pass without wishing you a Merry Christmas and thanking you for another year of taking part in this conversation. One of the great benefits of writing a newsletter as opposed to a website is that I know everyone who subscribes has made a choice to do so and to stick with it because something I wrote at one point struck them as insightful, interesting or amusing. This year saw another increase in the amount of subscribers, and knowing there are regular readers is what keeps me going year after year. So, thank you. I appreciate you more than I can convey in words.Â
I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and enjoy your time with friends and family. I know here, I usually start strong, going all in on Christmas music Nov. 1 and then find my spirit being broken in the Christmas week rush. This year, it didn’t happen. Despite the rushing, the balancing of work and home life, and the constant shopping, I enjoyed this Christmas season perhaps more than I usually do. It doesn’t mean I’m not exhausted or that we didn’t go way over budget, but I’m still happy and at peace, and that doesn’t always happen around Dec. 24. For that, I am grateful.Â
Some of you feel the same way, and today and tomorrow are culminations of a month full of family memories and beloved traditions. Maybe your kids have embraced the season with wide-eyed wonder, or you’ve finally been able to spend Christmas with the one you’ve been waiting for all your life. Maybe for the first time in years, your entire family will be together on Christmas Day, sharing laughs and stories around the table. I hope it’s as great as you’ve dreamed.Â
But I know some – maybe most – of you haven’t had that experience. Maybe you’re exhausted from a month of running, staring anxiously at the bank account or anticipating a bare Christmas tree because of a job loss or other economic woes. Maybe you’re trying to figure out how to buy groceries or pay the mortgage, and Christmas is a luxury you just can’t afford this year.Â
Maybe this Christmas finds you estranged from family members or enduring the first holidays after a loss. Maybe you’re experiencing the first Christmas as an empty nester, or are the family that doesn’t get a visit now that in-laws are in the picture. Perhaps you have nowhere to go on Christmas day and didn’t even bother to set up a tree because the loneliness is too unbearable.Â
Maybe you’ve been affected by violence and war, and any thought of celebration seems too frivolous this year. Maybe this Christmas brings uncertainty, and a future looking out on health concerns and a realization that this might be the last holiday you’re healthy enough to enjoy with the people you love.Â
If this is your Christmas, I understand. I’ve had the holidays where no amount of lights could brighten my soul, and no glad tidings could lighten my spirits. Our troubles don’t take a break on Christmas; the problems of the world aren’t put on hold.Â
It’s why, in recent years, I’ve come to appreciate paying more attention to the Christian calendar, in which the month leading up to Christmas Day is marked not by bright thoughts and cheeriness but an awareness of an ache in the world, and a hole in our souls. Advent acknowledges that all is not right. It remembers when a shining star and an infant in a manger were preceded by hundreds of years of silence, captivity and despair. And it observes a world in which we are all too aware that things are not as they should be and hopes for the day when all things will be made right, and every tear will be washed away.Â
Maybe you believe as I do. Maybe you don’t. Either way, I pray that this Christmas, whatever your situation, brings you a moment of peace and the thrill of hope.Â
Merry Christmas
– CWÂ