Today is the official start to the holiday season – red cups have arrived at Starbucks. Y’all, I love this day. So when I got to the pick up window to get my to-go cup this morning and they handed me a plain white cup, I nearly cried.
I’ve been listening to Christmas music for a solid week. Spotify and iTunes have a steady rotation of Bing Crosby and Lauren Daigle’s new Christmas album.
My neighbors were cleaning their gutters the other day and I told them I was so excited because I thought they were hanging Christmas lights.
Don’t be surprised if our tree is up before the weekend.
I am desperate for Christmas.
Not in the way you might think – I mean, I love the festivities and food and gift-giving and all that – but this morning, Christy Nockels was singing “O Holy Night” through my speakers and she nailed it when she sang, “the weary world rejoices.” I kind of laughed at the absurdity of the phrase. An oxymoron, it seems.
I guess you’d say I’m middle aged (even though I refuse to admit it), but in all my life I’ve never sensed such despair in friends and strangers. I sense such weariness around me – not only from world and local news – but from simply trying to make it through the day. Trying to hold our families together. Trying to pay the bills. Trying to make better decisions, because we have a track record of making poor ones. Trying to smile when we feel so dead inside. Trying to not feel so lonely in the middle of a crowd of people.
Are you weary, dear one?
Which is why I’m so desperate for Christmas. I know that the world was weary over 2000 years ago – and it had been weary for hundreds of years when Jesus came. Light in the darkness. Hope for those who were trying so hard. I’m desperate for Christmas because it reminds me that there’s another way.
I can choose to look at the darkness.
Or I can choose to look for the glimmers of light.
When you are weary – when your knees are weak – when you can’t go any further – when the weight of the world is on your shoulders and you can’t stand up under it any longer . . .
Fall on your knees.
Oh hear, the angels singing.
I’m desperate for Christmas because I just can’t anymore and it reminds me that I don’t have to.
I’m desperate for Christmas because I know the light shines brighter in the darkest of night.
So, this weary soul can rejoice.
And hope for a red cup this afternoon.