What Does Christmas Feel Like?

I wept.

I've been reflecting on a conversation I had that started like this, “It doesn’t feel like Christmas.” 

And so, I asked social media, “What does Christmas feel like?” 

And the answers came. It feels like hope, love, connection, a peacefulness in my heart, a warm closeness to feels eternal.  It feels like hope, giddy glee, anticipation, lots of love, responsibility for my actions to believe, be excited about Santa, and fun. I answered Sant’s plea for people who believe in merry, happiness, and love. I love surprising adults with gifts (lollipops) and cards that say, “I believe in you.”  

I let these words and feelings settle in my soul.

And then I wept.

Sitting in my beautifully decorated, festive home, I am warm with a full tummy and a hot cup of coffee as I sit by twinkly lights with loved ones sleeping.

I remember. I see. I weep.

For so many people and children, Christmas doesn't bring lots of love, merriment, warmth. It's just another day in the war.  In fact, for some in abusive homes, it may be the worst time of year of all.

You’ve heard my story of being a teen with 3 younger siblings when my mom went out days before Christmas and did not return.  As we sat in our undecorated home, with cold, bare tile floors, hungry tummies, and empty cupboards, we waited. As the world waits for the infant child Jesus to come at Christmas, we too waited. We waited for Mom to return. To bring us warmth, hope, giddy glee, lots of love and to help us to believe. We waited.

Mom didn’t return. And so we were alone, four children from ages five to fifteen.  Alone. Abandoned. At Christmas. 

As a child, we had a record player that we had received for Christmas one year.  One of my favorite songs was “Snoopy’s Christmas.“ I played it over and over. Snoopy and the Red Baron are fighting on Christmas Eve. The Baron has Snoopy at his mercy after a long dogfight, but instead of shooting him down, he forces Snoopy to land and offers Snoopy a holiday toast. Afterward, Snoopy and the Red Baron fly their separate ways, "each knowing they'd meet on some other day."  Inspired by a real-life truce in World War I.  

In my world, this was my Christmas hope. This is what Christmas meant. That for one day, the war raging in my world could stop. That for one day, abuse, neglect, hunger, extreme poverty, anger, hatred, fighting- could just take a break.  For one day, let there be peace. 

The war will rage on.  Christmas will come and go. Jesus will come into the world and we will still have battles to be fought every day. But his coming reminds us of our humanity.  And inspires us to offer hope to those who have none.  I was one of the lucky ones. Strangers gave me hope that Christmas-but that’s another story.

This Christmas let us remember the forgotten. Those who are hungry. Those who are in extreme poverty. In abusive relationships. The children who can’t escape the lives they didn’t choose.  The tired. The shivering. The anxious. The sad. The grieving. The mentally ill.

I was struggling to understand Christmas as a feeling.  So I asked.  And I can’t get there. I can’t believe Christmas is a feeling. Feelings aren’t always truthful.  And if Christmas is this wonderful feeling, what does that mean to those who don’t know that feeling?

Christmas is love. LOVE. Love brings hope to the weary. Love is a decision. It comes regardless of feelings. It comes in the middle of the struggle. And it says, I’m here with you.

Wishing you the peace of Christmas.

““...She will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel (which means 'God is with us')." Isaiah 7:14