I wish it wasn’t Christmas. There I said it. I’ve been holding it in for some time now and I thought the feeling would pass. Like a bad mood or a Texas cold front, I hoped it might sweep in stay for a few days and then be on its way. But, here it is. I wish it wasn’t Christmas. Wish it wasn’t time for gift giving and list making, peace on earth and all that jazz. I need the world to be a little less jolly. It’s not that I don’t like Christmas. I’m, in fact, a big fan.
What made Christmas so special to me were the many family Christmas moments I shared with my brother and sister. They were for me perfect moments in time. They belonged on the cover of the Saturday Evening Post. Caroling through our neighborhood, driving around looking at the lights, standing in line to see Santa at the mall, singing hymns together packed into my parent’s tiny living room.
That’s what Christmas is for me. With the loss of my brother this year, I’m not quite sure if and how Christmas can work without him. I finally have experienced what I’ve heard for so long, for some Christmas is a reminder of what they’ve lost and not what they have received.
I think it’s wise at times like these to follow the lead of some other wise men. They weren’t religious by nature or upbringing. They didn’t belong to a church. Certainly they weren’t in the inner circle of God’s “chosen people.” But, they find themselves as key players in the greatest story ever recorded. Piecing together prophecies from Hosea, Daniel, Numbers, Micah, and Isaiah, these eastern kings followed the evidence that lead to a star that brought them to a Savior. As they looked into the manger at the beautiful baby of God, what did they see?
Isaiah says it well, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6
Could we receive a better Christmas gift than this? A counselor who can speak to our hurts. A mighty God that conquers death and offers life. A Father who never leaves. And a ruler that brings that brings much needed peace. I know I could use a little bit of each. This Christmas may you open up the richest of gifts: the comforting peace of knowing and walking with an Everlasting Father.