Making Christmas

Written for a Christmas pageant at my church a few years back . . .


Making Christmas

When the Calendar page turns
and November smiles at me,
thoughts of Christmas dance
along the edges of my mind.
Everywhere I go,
people are making Christmas.

Perhaps the anticipation
of the impending chaos that is
the annual pageant,
or the tinsel and garland
that begin to flood the retail aisles
awake in me a giddiness for Christmas.

I try to remember where I stashed
last year’s decorations
and begin to plan
my escapades to the mall.
My brain begins its planning long before
the Thanksgiving turkey is carved.

The advent candles
ignite a desperation in me . . .
a sadness and a joy
that mingle in their holiday dance.
The emptiness and the fullness of my heart
are the fuel for making Christmas.

The closer we get to Christmas day,
the faster the wheels of time spin us round.
Shopping, baking, rehearsing,
decorating, visiting, blinking lights,
Christmas cards, Christmas trees,
wrapping paper and candy canes . . .

But in all this something is missing.
That emptiness in my heart lingers,
and the torment of it urges me to pay attention.
We try to fill the spaces by filling our days
with Christmas songs and parties,
but we are never really satisfied . . .

Until that starry night when snow blankets the earth,
and we climb out of our cars and file into the church,
the lights of the tree finally drowned out by the advent fire.
We no longer notice the space under the tree,
but our eyes are drawn to the emptiness of the manger,
and Peace floods our hearts.

Twinkling stars and angels songs . . .
shepherds and sleeping babies . . .
Then you close your eyes and realize
that when no one was watching
Jesus came in
and made it Christmas in your heart.