"'those Christmas lights..."

“Oh Christmas lights, light up the streets; light up the fireworks in me. May all your troubles soon be gone. Oh Christmas lights, keep shining on.”  - Coldplay song 

 

That particular Coldplay song has been playing in my head for a few weeks now, with such regularity it has become my mental soundtrack for “the Holidays, 2013.”  For me, ‘the holidays” start a few days before Thanksgiving and last through Valentine’s Day. Winter is a dark, cold time; I’m in no hurry to give up bright lights and warm feelings just because the calendar says I should.   

After years of stressing over every detail on list after long holiday list, I’ve changed my approach. A near pathological need for perfection and closure has been replaced by a wondering fondness for the surprises a slowly unfolding, minimally organized holiday season brings.

The thankfulness of Thanksgiving is made festive by the appearance of Christmas lights, music and decorations. Shopping for gifts, I hear complete strangers wish each other, “Merry Christmas!” at nearly every stop. Yes, this season is feeling pretty bright. Once those holiday cards, photos and letters start arriving, there’s a near constant smile on my face.

Add to this bounty of holiday cheer the richness the juxtaposition of light and dark, having and needing, wanting and being well blessed brings – such stark contrasts everywhere.  While I am wrapping gifts, others are out of work and will have no Christmas this year. While Mr. Clark, our resident chef, is busy planning meal after delicious meal, others don’t have enough food to feed their families. While I have the luxury of keeping my thermostat at 70 degrees while also burning cozy fire after cozy fire in the fireplace, others are cold, bone cold, with no prospect of warmth. There’s no time like the holidays to re-realize, over and over again, how my cup does truly runneth over.

Pastor Liz from Garrison Keillor’s A Prairie Home Companion challenges her congregation of stoic Lutherans to “give what you do not have.” She adds, “The thing you do not have is certitude and so you should give certainty to others as a gift.”  

What a precious thought. We, none of us, know what tomorrow will bring. At any time, this glorious excess I am currently blessed with can be snatched by an unforeseen act of God or twist of fate. So, for now, take this hug, this can of cat food, this blanket or dog bed or coat, this ham or turkey or box of canned goods, and let it create a few moments of certitude for you, from me.

The season of Advent brings promise and with promise comes hope. It’s so important for us to encourage those who are struggling. A few Christmases ago, Mr. Clark was out of work and things were grim at our house. There were no gifts; we had food, but it was simple and there were no leftovers. We had no idea what the New Year would bring…”At least we have our health and our family” was the mantra we clung to.  

The simplicity and sadness of that Christmas has stuck with me, even as I celebrate this holiday season with such plenty. Family matters; gifts do not. Gathering together matters; having an elaborately decorated house does not. Health and love matter; filling elegantly wrapped boxes with things no one really needs does not. If you are in need, hold on; better times may be right around the corner, even if you can’t see them yet.    

Luciano de Crescenzo said, "We are each of us angels with only one wing and we can only fly by embracing one another." What a lovely thought, especially for the holiday season. There's no better time than now to reach out and fly a little closer to each other.