This Christmas will certainly be a memorable one for a plethora of reasons. I mean… *broadly gestures at everything*. But, at least it won’t be as depressing for us as I thought it would be.
For a long time, I wasn’t in the Christmas spirit at all. It’s been a rough year, for one. I spent my Thanksgiving really sad because I was eating turkey with just my household while watching my mom’s new favorite show Grimm, which wasn’t what I’d called a Christmas show. Keyword: wasn’t.
And, of course, I now live in central western Washington state at sea-level, surrounded by lush, green foliage and salt water. I probably won’t see a single snowflake this year or even next year, which I feel very ambivalent about. I certainly miss the beauty of the sparkly, white snow I’m used to in Colorado, which could put me into the Christmas spirit almost instantly. But, I don’t miss shoveling snow or driving on icy roads. I recently revisited my winter rant in my blog from last year, which has honestly helped me feel a little better about having to mow the lawn in the rain once a week instead of shoveling the snow in the middle of a blizzard multiple times a day for a week.
Re-reading that rant of mine not only made me grateful for the calm, predictable weather we have in Gig Harbor, but that seed of gratefulness seems to have bloomed into a Christmas-spirit-filled flower. I’m still depressed as hell and miss everyone so, so, so much. But, at least I’m no longer literally the Grinch.
Before that seed of Christmas spirit was planted, I was not at all cheerful. I glared at my mom and little brother when they pestered me to get the Christmas tree and box of ornaments off one of the highest shelves in the garage. I finally agreed to do it, but only if I wasn’t forced to put the thing together or help decorate it, and could instead drive myself down to downtown Gig Harbor and go for a walk. They agreed.
While they danced to cheerful Christmas music, wore Santa hats, brewed tea and hot chocolate, and set up the tree, I went to town to walk around the harbor. It was a nice walk until the heavens opened up above me when I was nearly a mile away from the Xterra. I returned home shivering, soaked, and even more upset than I was when I left. I feel like there’s a metaphor in there somewhere, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
Anyway.
While I was sprinting to my truck, my head down against the sideways rain, I totally missed the all the Christmas things being setup throughout town. During the walking portion of my walk, my mind was completely elsewhere, and I was listening to . I didn’t notice the Christmas lights strung around every building and boat in the harbor, or the herd of white light reindeer “grazing” in the park, or the wreaths hung on nearly every door and car grill, or the nativity scene set up at the base of a Griswold-sized Christmas tree in the center of town. I was totally oblivious (and arguably immune) to the Christmas spirit of Gig Harbor.
But, I couldn’t ignore it forever. Within a couple of days, my mom and little brother had almost the entire house decked out in boughs of holly. And Christmas lights, and Christmas garland, and Christmas birds, and Christmas stockings, and of course, Christmas trees. Yes, multiple Christmas trees. My mom also needed my help fixing the nativity scene, as it had been kind of jostled during the move. Luckily, we didn’t lose any important figures, but I did have to glue Joseph’s hand back on while my mom laughed at the ridiculous sentence, “We have to glue Joseph’s hand back on!” for a solid ten minutes. I still was anything but joyful, but my mom managed to get me to chuckle a bit.
Then, about a week later, Mom and I headed to town in search of take-out. We forgot all about getting dinner when we turned onto the road that followed the harbor itself. Everything was brightly and cheerfully lit with Christmas decor. Every building and tree was glowing with light. Holly and Fir branches decorated every post and sign. A nativity silhouette stood at the base of a large Christmas tree surrounded by candy canes and reindeer. But, what caught my eye the most were the boats docked in the harbor, each decorated in twinkling Christmas lights of all colors. We had to pull over so I could run around town and get a few pictures… In the pouring rain of course!
Now, why, out of all things would boats decorated for Christmas intrigue me the most? Well, I’m a Coloradan! I’ve never seen a Christmas boat before, let alone an entire harbor filled with all sorts of Christmasty boats! So, of course I was most attracted to the thing I’ve never seen before.
Speaking of Colorado…
A a couple weeks later, I was out driving alone again, this time feeling the Christmas spirit just enough to start listening to Christmas music as I drove. I was on my way to my favorite store (Michael’s, which is an art store) to get some Christmas supplies. As I drove along the wet, dark country roads, a song called Colorado Christmas began to play on the radio. It immediately caught my ears, and I paid attention to the lyrics much more closely than usual. Why? Well, for the first time, I could really, really relate to it.
Before, I used to only listen to it because A) it’s a country Christmas song by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, and B) it was a song about Christmas in Colorado. But, now that I live in Washington, I’ve realized what that song’s really about: a person living along the west coast during Christmas time, sadly reminiscing about spending Christmas in Colorado. And, like I’ve been doing an awful lot lately, I ugly cried the whole rest of the way to the art store, and stayed in the car until I was done crying.
If we weren’t still dealing with a raging pandemic, I’d be home along the foothills for the holidays, enjoying the presence of family and friends, riding down the steepest part of the famous Ken Caryl sledding hill wearing a dirtbike helmet, getting into snowball fights with loved ones, helping family cook Christmas dinner, and whipping shitties in empty icy parking lots.
Instead, I’m destined to spend Christmas alone in Gig Harbor this year, mowing the lawn in the pouring rain instead of shoveling the snow in the middle of a blizzard, getting and giving Christmas gifts wrapped in unremarkable Amazon boxes rather than in colorful wrapping paper, watching a pre-recorded Christmas sermon on the TV instead of going to church in-person and listening to classic hymns echoing throughout the sanctuary, and eating the Christmas turkey while watching another season of Grimm with just my mom (my little brother would be upstairs in his bedroom playing video games with his friends). I had every valid reason to believe I’d spend my Christmas like I spent my Thanksgiving: crippled by sadness and grief.
But, once I got myself together and began to browse the empty art store through foggy glasses, an idea just randomly popped into my head as I was looking at ink pens. “Purchase a bunch of Christmas cards and watercolor paper, and send a personalized card to every friend and family member you can think of.”
That thought stunned me. I’ve never had the courage to send everyone I know and care about a personalized card for Christmas. It has always either escaped my mind, or I’ve thought about it but then dismissed it, or I’ve seriously considered it only for my anxiety to kick in and start asking me absurd things like, “Isn’t it kind of creepy to ask for everyones’ addresses?”
But, this time I couldn’t dismiss this thought so easily. It was almost as if it was put into my mind by God. So, I quickly put a handful of pens and a giant packet of watercolor paper into my shopping basket, and made a mad dash across the store to the Christmas section before my anxiety could kick in and ruin my plans. There, I found a bunch of Christmas cards and envelopes. I also saw a really cute black bear figurine with a Christmas hat that was on sale for super cheap, so I put him in the basket along with a couple boxes of Christmas cards. There was also an equally cute owl on sale next to the bear, so I grabbed him too. Finally, just before I reached the check-out desk, I spotted some of my little brother’s favorite candy and bought several boxes of it for his Christmas present.
Before I could even comprehend it, I was no longer a Grinch. The Christmas spirit hit me like a truck in the middle of my shopping spree at Michael’s at close to nine at nights, out of all places.
On my way home, I went to my mom’s cousin’s house first to drop off her owl. By then, my mom’s cousin’s house was dark, so I didn’t dare touch the doorbell. Instead, I parked my Xterra around the corner, then snuck around through the thick treeline to the front porch where I’d set up the owl, so it would be staring at whoever opened up the front door in the morning. The wind had picked up and it was raining heavily, which helped to conceal me as I jumped a shrub, sprinted across the lawn in a semi-crouched position, and army-crawled up the front porch steps and to the front door where I left the owl. As quickly and stealthily as I arrived, I was gone, quietly giggling to myself along with the coyotes that howled and yipped in the eerie wilderness that surrounded me.
I laughed to myself raucously as I drove home, listening to Reverend Horton Heat’s Christmas album, filled to the brim with Christmas cheer for some inexplicable reason. Just an hour or so before, I was really, really sad. But, something big happened within that hour that I just couldn’t explain. I was still cackling like a hyena when I walked through the front door, and my mom stared at me like I’d grown a second head until I could explain to her, as best as I could, what had transpired.
Taking advantage of the fact that I was finally in the Christmas spirit just a week away from December 25th, I began to create personalized Christmas cards for everyone who wanted one, including a little card-sized drawing within each of them. For several days, I did nothing except make those letters. I had a few dozen people to make cards for, and by the fourth day, I knew I couldn't make and send them all before Christmas. That, and my mom demanded that I took a break to celebrate Christmas with the family. When she said that we'd be doing four consecutive days of Christmas celebrations, on top of another few days of New Years' celebrations the week following Christmas, I kind of panicked, and not just because of the pandemic.
If you don't already know, I'm an extreme introvert. I'm more or less borderlining on being a hermit at this point in my life, which I'm personally alright with. But, God blessed me with a large family of extreme extroverts who especially adore me for whatever reason. I wasn't sure how I could survive four straight days of Christmas celebrations with my rambunctious Washington relatives. But, I knew I didn't have much of a choice, given that my family would end up at my house at least two of those days. All I could really do was find ways to cope, starting with stocking up on enough diet Coke to get me through those four days. It would certainly ruin what little sleep schedule I had left, but at least I could survive the family gatherings without turning into Krampus; ibex horns and all.
To kick Christmas off, Mom came home from the store early Saturday afternoon with more than just groceries. She had bought several bags worth in cheap Christmas decorations, and another two bags filled with brand new toys. Turns out, she had signed us up to join the annual Gig Harbor Christmas parade. The Christmas decorations were to be zip-tied to the car, and the toys were to be donated to the toy drive after the parade. On top of it all, my little brother was instructed to wear his obnoxious inflatable T-rex suit and sit in the front seat, ringing sleigh bells as we drove. Oh, we had sleigh bells for the truck too. Along with elves, garland, lights, a sparkly "Merry Christmas" sign for the grill, and much more.
Of course, my first instinct was to stay home. After all, I didn't want to be seen in an Xterra decked-out in Christmas decorations with an elf driving and a T-rex in the front passenger shaking sleighbells out the window as we drove through town. But, regardless if I went, we have the only blue Xterra in town with Colorado plates (even if I didn't go, I'd still have to drive around town in a very recognizable vehicle afterwards), and my mom promised to let me get some Christmas shopping done if I just went with them. Plus, all I had to do was sit in the backseat and pretend not to exist if I wanted to. Well, I was told that until Mom dressed up the puppy in a reindeer outfit and told me I had to show her off as we paraded all around Gig Harbor.
So, with just an hour before the parade, I rushed to help Mom zip-tie as many decorations to the Xterra as possible. To be honest, we didn't get many decorations on the car, but it was at least something.
Begrudgingly, I got in the backseat with Penny the reindeer and held my face in my palm as my little brother clambered into the front seat in his inflatable T-rex suit.
Note: This was meant to be the last page (and it will be), but I kind of just had to write this part before I finished the rest of the story.
While all of these festivities were fun, those of us who are Christians must not forget the true reason why we celebrate Christmas. Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, was born from the virgin Mary in a stable in Bethlehem. Unlike every other religion back in those days, Christ was not born into lavishness and wealth. Barely anyone even knew He had been born. When He grew up and began to preach, perform miracles, and declare to the people that He was God in the flesh, He was hated by the vast majority of those who claimed to worship the same God Christ was. In fact, the Pharisees and Gentiles hated Him so much, that they nailed Him to a cross, beaten and bloodied with a crown of thorns on his head, where He suffered and then died, which deeply terrified the Disciples who thought their Savior would never die.
But, He didn't stay dead forever. Three days later, two women witnessed Christ standing outside of His empty tomb, Who then told the two women to spread the good news despite the fact that back then, anyone who dared to even mutter Christ's name was subject to the same torturous death as He was. But, despite this, the two fearless woman set out to spread the good news to the terrified Christians and Christ's twelve disciples, who were all in hiding, just before Christ Himself appeared to those same people, who were all later martyred and/or exiled for spreading the Gospel.
The birth, death, and resurrection of Christ all represent the moment humans were reconciled with God, after the sin of Adam and Eve, which represented the separation between God and man. No longer was man separated from God, for He had come back in the flesh to offer the free gift of salvation to the world. Since the night Christ was born, we've been living in a new Eden, no longer separated from God and sentenced to permanent death. Our sins, past, present, and future have all been forgiven and forgotten. God is no longer "confined" to a gilded temple guarded by high priests. Anyone and everyone can pray directly to God, and He will hear them all.
The Lord's prayer suddenly comes to mind:
Our Father Who art in heaven,
Hallowed be Thy name
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done
On Earth as it is in Heaven..."
That last phrase, "On Earth as it is in Heaven" never fails to send chills throughout my body, and strike me with inexplicable awe and fear for the Creator of all things. I once heard in a sermon that since God lives outside of time, He experiences all things at the same exact time, meaning (in the best earthly terms that I can come up with), we're already "in heaven" to to speak, even though our fleshy bodies are currently still alive and suffering in sin on Earth. In God's realm, there is no such thing as "yesterday" or "tomorrow", for both are occurring together at the same "time", along with everything else that we perceive as history and the future.
Now, what does this have to do with Christmas, you might ask? Well, I like to think that Christ has simultaneously been born, crucified, and resurrected everyday, including on Christmas and Easter. I like to try (and pretty much fail) to imagine that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is standing before me every second of everyday, including when I say my Christmas prayers, and especially when I feel His presence; a presence so strong and loving it has brought me to tears and forced me to stop doing whatever I was doing, leaving me trembling and awe-struck. If God hadn't returned to Earth in the flesh, neither myself or anyone else besides the prophets of the Old Testament would be able to revel in the overwhelming presence of the Lord.
Yet, here I am, feeling His presence as I type this, trying (and failing) to put the true Spirit of Christmas into words.
This is the reason why we celebrate Christmas. We celebrate the fact that God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, Jesus Christ, and whoever shall believe in Him shall have eternal life, no questions asked (okay, I added that last part in, but it's true. See Hebrews 8:12 for details).
Personally, the true reason we celebrate Christmas has really relieved a lot of my anxieties regarding my walk with the Lord, as have simply learning and growing in the faith.
Before I read 1 Corinthians and Romans (and covid happened), I was desperate to find a church since I was raised to believe that going to a church building with others was essential to my salvation. In reality, church can be anywhere and anything. Listening to InspiringPhilosophy and Sentinel Apologetics on Youtube ripping on Young Earth Creationism for three hours is church. Silently reading the Bible on my phone before bed is church. Having a discussion about God, even just briefly with friends and family, is church. Listening to Oceans by Hillsong on repeat while driving is church. Praying to God while in the shower is church. Going for a hike and admiring God's creation is church. Scratching chi-roh on a boulder with a rock in the wilderness is church. Creating art and music is church. Anytime we remember Christ, we are in church.
God is too big to be confined to four walls and/or a large congregation of people early Sunday morning. He is everywhere. He was, is, and is to come. His handiwork is evident in the tiniest atom and the brightest galaxies. He knew us long before He even created the universe. Why do some Christians still condemn those who worship God beyond the steepled building and congregation?
Truth is, I'll never understand the mindset of the Pharisees, who think God is so small that He can only dwell in a church on Sunday, and so fragile that if Starbucks stops serving coffee in cups that say "Merry Christmas" on them, somehow the world will forget Who God is.
Speaking of which, I strongly detest the idea of commercializing the sacred symbols and celebrations of Christianity. I would feel very uncomfortable buying wrapping paper with sacred Christian symbols randomly printed on it. I cringe every time I see an Aryan Jesus. I stay away from cheap plastic crucifixes. I wouldn't be offended in the slightest if "happy holidays" replaced every mention of "merry Christmas" in non-Christian stores. I could never understand why some people get so damn upset whenever another corporation decides to print "happy holidays" instead of "merry Christmas" on their products. God is too big and powerful to be stamped out by some secular corporation deciding to serve coffee in simple red cups instead of specifically Christmas cups.
But, I think I'm straying from the point I'm trying to make. In short, I worship the infinite Creator of all things, Who was, is, and is to come, Who is everywhere at every time. I worship a God so powerful that all He had to do to create everything was say, "Let there be light", yet so gentle that He welcomed little children to sit in His lap. I worship a God who loves His creation so much, that He figured it was worth it to create us and sacrifice Himself for us even though we all have, do, and will willfully sin against Him during our short lives. Hence is why I celebrate Christmas.