Lala was only repeating what she’d seen on a commercial, sung by wide-eyed frantic sweater-clad people carrying overflowing shopping bags, rushing to mark items off their holiday lists.
While we decorated our house in the first days of the season, I heard her belting out the tune of “Deck the Halls” Fa la la la la, but with the words:
“Go, go, go, go, go, shop, shop, shop, shop!”
“Oh no, we will NOT be singing those words in this house!” I snapped.
I saw the tears threaten to fill her eyes and realized the intensity of my response, but I felt my mama bear rise up because, yes, we are fighting for something here.
“I know you were just singing a commercial, honey, but Christmas is not our celebration of buying stuff. It’s when we celebrate what God already gave us: Jesus.”
The other day, as we rode in the car, the Muppets sang, “We need a little Christmas right this very minute! It hasn’t snowed a single flurry, but Santa, dear, we’re in a hurry!” and then they kept on with their demands that we string lights and slice up fruitcake, and I felt a strong urge to throw a hard object at the radio because Geez, Muppets! Can’t you see? I’m already doing everything I can to make Christmas happen!?!
The to-do list is long, and like every year, I doubt I’ll get it done and feel I’m just keeping my chin above water (as I struggle to keep perspective). I vow to Michael that we’ll do it differently next year — like I always do. We are trying to find time to make Christmas magic and form memories and still do everyday life. Send the emails, scrub the toilet, get the homework done and and and…
I’m feeling the appetite for more. More of me to go around, more time, more serving, more money, more meaning, but when I slow to listen, I find deeper still the longing for quiet, to receive what already is.
This morning, fog envelops our house, and it’s stillness that sits and waits right here, does not jump to the next moment or obligation, but simply is.
Last night, we felt tired and mixed up about our evening’s plan to go caroling. But we went. No big production. Just warm coats, scarves and hats.
We drunk the most incredible thick, drippy cocoa with homemade whipped cream made by our friend who hosted the evening. We shook hands with strangers. We stopped for a glass of wine, conversation and laughter at the home of friends in the neighborhood. We carried song books and LED candles and visited homes of those with their lights on.
We sung “Joy to the World” and “Silent Night” and “O Come All Ye Faithful.”
Children came to front doors in their pajamas, and elderly ladies beamed, and a man with a glorious baritone sung from his porch with us.
And as we walked between houses, we sung “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” and Sici’s face radiated joyous love because we weren’t demanding that Christmas come, but rejoicing in the truth that it already had.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
“..the longing for quiet, to receive what already is.” what a true, heartfelt sentiment, perfectly put.
So lovely! I want to remember this – Christmas has already come. Thank you, my friend.
I love the way you ended this Ashley, I was thinking about that very thing as I was reading your story. How we all have good intentions and dreams about meaning-full Christmas celebrations and sometimes our expectations get in the way of what is already taking place. The word pictures you created about your caroling expedition are glorious. So glad I stopped by. Sending you hugs and lots of love.
Christmas has already come… yes…. I just said to a dear friend yesterday that it’s odd that this season creates such a feeling of searching for something-the perfect gift or moment or activity to do with the kids… when, really, at its heart, Christmas isn’t about finding but about being FOUND. Love how the Good News found us when none of use were worthy or looking for it. And I love to picture sweet Sici’s face as she savored what was right there all along. You have a gift for capturing beauty- thanks for sharing it here even in the midst of such a stretched-thin, packed-full season. Thanks for making time to bless us with your words and your heart. Praying RIGHT NOW before I leave that you’ll be blessed in return, dear friend.
YES. He’s come and pursued and we get to receive and respond. I’m so thankful. So appreciate your heart, my friend. Looking forward to getting to know you more deeply in 2014. Love to you! And heart-peace in this season. Xoxo
Really love your instincts, Ashley :) sadly lala’s words are too often the meaning of Christmas, which is what I like about imago’s “advent conspiracy”. Christmas blessings.
I am so glad you had this experience Ashley. You simply enjoyed the season being with people seems like…not manufacturing an activity. What a beautiful quote how Christmas has already come, does not need to be produced. I have felt so heavily that even the Christian community, and it’s great advice and ideas to “redeem” the holiday becomes another panic-inducing to do list. {we got our Ann Voskamp inspired Jesse tree, made some of the homemade ornaments, but have been too tired and the family too sick, to actually get to the devotions more than a couple times this month…oh well}. Today I was feeling the Christmas joy with a 3- hour- nite- quill induced-winter nap while Tim got the Christmas tree and did some shopping with the 4 girls!
Cheers,
Leah
What a perfect reminder for all of us. As always so beautifully told. I love the images I have of you all Caroling together. Love you!!!
Yes, we are fighting for something here.
I so love that last bit.
Love, Love, Love this post! Thank you for saying what so many feel. Yes, Christmas has already come. Blessings!
Yes. I am with you, sister. I love your determination to fight this battle, your desire to hear what really is in the quiet of rest, the much needed reminder that Christmas is already here, it is always here. Perpetual, profound gift. Love you and yours.
Beautiful beautiful beautiful Ashley!! I so love this, love this!! xoxo