So far, this holiday season is going just as it should, right on schedule. Everyone has been sick at least once, the presents are bought but waiting to be wrapped and mailed, the Christmas letter is written but is not even printed yet–much less addressed and stamped, the decorations are still in their boxes waiting for my “want to” to kick in (it’s not looking good so far).
Welcome to my Bah-Humbug post of the year. I hope it will be my only one, but since there are twelve more days until Christmas, I can’t guarantee it.
Don’t get me wrong. I celebrate Christmas–the real reason for the season, the birth of my Savior, my Hope and Love. It’s the secular “Happy Holidays” I have trouble with–the holidays that put more stress on me to get well, get to work, get to the post office–times two. Once for Mom, again for us. From Thanksgiving through New Year’s Day, my time is not my own. It belongs to everyone else, and the stress can make me cross-eyed. The past several years, I’ve started dreading the stress of the season as early as October first. Breathing easily doesn’t recur until January 2, or this year, January 3, when MSB goes back to work.
This is the way I feel–put-upon, stressed, desperate for down-time–and I always feel guilty for it. Another negative emotion to add to the list. But in my heart, I know I’m blessed. My mother is still among the living, meaning I feel stress over her to-do list instead of sorrow over her loss. I have kids and grandkids who are a joy to buy for and a delight to watch as they open their surprises. I have friends and family who care enough about what is happening to me and my family to read that Christmas letter year after year.
Christmas is always merry for me because I love my Lord. And when I take the time to remember my blessings, the holidays are happy for me, too.