Christmas Letdown
This was not our tree….
The tree is by the curb in a heap. Hundreds of dead needles fell as we dragged the shriveled tree outside, and they still dawn my front steps, ready to welcome the guests we no longer have. I’m still finding shrapnel pieces of snowman covered wrapping paper on the carpet, even after vacuuming countless times. This Christmas was different than any other year I’ve experienced. We kept our socialization to a minimum and made sure we were mindful of how we interacted with the people in our lives. Overall it was fun, but it was also really uncomfortable and challenging.
One thing that wasn’t new for me this year was the inevitable letdown that comes with Christmas materialism. Every October I begin the elating task of buying gifts for every member of my family. I get sucked into thinking I can solve the problems of discontent in myself and my children by filling up our home with new and exciting things. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of what they receive are things they need, and it isn’t a sin to celebrate by buying gifts; what bothers me is the emptiness that returns when my sinful heart realizes that the things of this world cannot fill me with the peace and hope I wish they would. I realize this the moment a doll I spent hours picking out gets shoved under a bed somewhere only 2 days after Christmas, only to be told that it’s not really what she wanted. Or when a blouse I purchased for my sister is a little too small or not her style and needs to be returned. Or when I spill coffee on the brand-new sweatshirt my husband gave me, defeated as the coffee color forever tinges my newest fashion addition. All the joy I thought I was giving them and myself falls short, again. I’m looking at these gifts all wrong and using them as idolatrous joy replacement.
Rosaria Champagne Butterfield says this in her book The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert: An English Professor's Journey into Christian Faith, “Pride combined with wealth leads to idleness because you falsely feel that God just wants you to have fun; if unchecked, this sin will grow into entertainment-driven lust; if unchecked, this sin will grow into hardness of heart that declares other people’s problems no responsibility or care of your own; if unchecked, we become bold in our sin and feel entitled to live selfish lives fueled by the twin values of our culture: acquiring and achieving.”
I hear her words as a strong warning that uncovers the struggles of my heart. I take something good, the celebration of our Savior’s birth, and turn it into a technique to feel satisfied by the things in this world. I am always met with emptiness when materials are my first love. I continually marvel that I once again fell for the tricks of my uber selfish sin nature. I felt extra tension this year as Coronavirus tainted the Christmas fellowship I have come to look forward to with family each year. The small sacrifices we’ve made to keep others and ourselves healthy have been worth it, but it became clear how much we were missing out on this holiday season. Drowning in exhaustion from recent events made me vulnerable to even higher expectations of the gifts that would come over the holidays. Once again the stuff didn’t make the cut, didn’t fill my soul with peace, and certainly didn’t make the Coronavirus go away.
This year was yet another hard, but welcomed reminder that Christ is truly the only thing that can fill me. He’s the only perfect gift that won’t leave me wanting. I won’t fully receive the joy of His eternal gift this side of heaven but knowing that someday I will be with Him in heaven is a gift that won’t ever fall short. It won’t ever waste away or get shoved under a bed. It doesn’t break or disappear. The gift of Christ keeps me fighting the sin in my heart to love the world knowing He continues to help me do so, and forgives me time and time again.
This was our tree. The lower half left much to be desired……..
