What to Do When it Doesn't Feel Like Christmas

It's never hit me as hard as it has this year. It's been happening slowly for the past couple of years, which I think it just a symptom of growing up. I fought really hard not to lose it, but Christmas just doesn't seem like Christmas recently. This year it's been even worse and I think this is for a few reasons. One, because it's been so blasted warm. Seriously, get it together Cincinnati, this is December. It should be 35 degrees and overcast, not 70 degrees and breezy. There are birds chirping in the trees. It's ungodly. But anyway, I digress. Second, I think that usually I start getting Christmasy the second it hits midnight the day after Thanksgiving. We all know that after thanksgiving is over it's time for Christmas. The problem is that the past couple years, instead of getting Christmasy, I've had to ignore everything else and buckle down for finals. Thirdly, I know how money works now. That makes everything less fun.

Usually I gradually start feeling more Christmasy; when we put up the tree, when I start listening to Christmas music, when I start wrapping presents. Even last year things at school helped. The Johnson Christmas party, Johnson boys caroling in our courtyard, class Christmas parties. But even that didn't work this year.

So what is it? Why am I suddenly lacking the fuzzy-warm-inside-Christmas-cheer feeling I'm so fond of? This is the time of year I live for; when everyone is happy and feeling generous and kind. This is the time of year when people suddenly remember the things they forgot all year long like how to value their family, how to be kind to others, how to be generous. I want this holiday. I need the time of relaxation and happiness with my family before I go back to the craziness of school. And I hate New Years so that's not going to cut it..

I think Christmas peaks when you're about seven or eight. Maybe you still believe in Santa, you get really great presents, everything still has this magical sheen surrounding it, your parents still pay for the presents you get for everyone, and you're old enough to remember it all. Then you get older, and gradually your traditions change. This is especially true for me this year, and I think this is where the lack-of-Christmas-spirit is stemming from.

My whole life we've done the same thing on Christmas. We go to the same Christmas Eve service, we go to the same Christmas party, I've read the same children Christmas books for as long as I can remember (even though I've far outgrown them), we have the exact same Christmas-morning tradition. And call me Tevye, because darn if I don't love traditions.  But this year it's different. Since my siblings are all old (relative to me) and married, we have to switch things up a bit. We're not having our Christmas until January. And I know it's not all about the presents, but the time when we open presents is a time I cherish every year. Changing it up just doesn't feel right.

I don't really know what to do about this whole situation. I know that Christmas isn't the most important thing in the world, but to me it is pretty important. I know that the real reason is about Jesus, but I want my family traditions too. Even writing this post I still don't know what to do, so I guess the title is a little deceiving because I don't have any answers.

What I realized in church last week, however, is that it doesn't matter. As much as I hate it, it doesn't matter that it doesn't feel like Christmas. Like it or not, my life isn't always going to be as peachy-keen perfect as it has been in the past. Christmas may not always be the magical time I remember it being as a child. But in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter. I kind of hate the whole "Reason for the Season" type things, but what it's right in reminding us that matters is Jesus. The birth of Jesus is the second-most important thing to ever happen in history, right behind his resurrection. If I don't get my Santa and hot chocolate and carol-singing Christmas, I have to suck it up because that's the way the world works. But I think it is still important to stop and remember the importance of the birth of Jesus; to remind yourself how absolutely insane it is that God would make himself a human; that is the "Reason for the Season" (cringe as you feel led).

I'm still going to try to make it feel like Christmas. I'm not quite ready to give up the child-like wonder at the Christmas magic. Yet when I feel sad because it isn't the same or I don't have the Christmasy feeling, I can remember why we even have Christmas, and put it into perspective.

I don't know if any of you have felt the same way, or if this helps in any way, but I hope it did.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good attitude.
Lisa

No One Will Ever Know

I wrote this poem after I heard about the San Bernardino shooting, but it could honestly apply to whichever shooting you think of first. If you haven't watched the news lately, there have been a few. I know poems can't really fix anything, but I think they can help put things in perspective and point out the harshness of the truth.  This story is a complete work of fiction, but can be reflective of any number of real stories.

(Caution: while this is not unnecessarily graphic, it does not avoid reality.)

My life is over.

One twitch of a finger and I'm gone.

Galaxies of memories, experiences, feelings,

Gone before I could scream "Mercy."

My thoughts are precious,

My experiences are unique.

Now they are wasted, buried, splattered with my blood.

No one will ever know

How sad I was that I couldn't go home for Thanksgiving. 

How unhappy I was with my grades.

No one will ever know that I let them slip

Because I was too busy writing a novel.

My sister will never know that I was going to surprise her tomorrow. 

I will never get to tell my mom about my new boyfriend.

My boyfriend will never get to know if he loved me or not.

Because my blood is painted on the wall behind me;

A Jackson Pollock depiction of my death.

As you, a man I do not know

With galaxies of your own,

Hold a gun as if it isn't the Angel of Death

And I forgot to paint lamb's blood over my door today. 

You don't know my galaxies.

I don't know yours.

You never gave me the chance to learn. 

Instead, you introduced me to your gun.

It said hello and never left me with the time to say goodbye. 

9 millimeters isn't that big.

Certainly not as big as a galaxy.

9 millimeters is small,

Until it turns on you.

Then it is a black hole.