From Grinchy to Grateful
"I give up."
This thought went through my head as the glass ornament crashed to the ground and broke. I had already spilled the dairy-free eggnog onto the floor and broken the glass picture frame. This decorating of the Christmas tree didn't seem worth it. But like the big girl I am, I stopped, took a deep breath, grabbed the broom and dustpan, and cleaned it all up.
"Not worth it," I grumbled as the glass rattled into the garbage bag. "Why am I setting this thing up for the few days I will be here to enjoy it?" I looked at the reminders under my tree.
The Gift of Christmas Decorating
The Grinch gift bag. Someone who knows me well gave me a gift in it years ago. It has become a part of my yearly decorating tradition. At this moment, I am reminded that Christmas is often challenging for people who are alone. Single adults, those who have recently lost a loved one, those who can't make it home. Someone is going through "medical-issue-fatigue" (I think I made up that last term). Whatever the reason for their Grinchiness (another made-up term), they need love. Like Cindy-Lou, whose love helped the Grinch's heart to grow two sizes, when we share Christ with the lonely at Christmas, their hearts can literally grow. As John 10:10b says: "I have come that they may have life and have it to the full."
My Christmas decorating continues as I pull out the other under-the-tree item. My plan to decorate my way out of this funk hasn't worked so far. But hopefully, the next item helps – Father Christmas. Yes, he brings me a smile. He is one of those old-world Father Christmas types – dressed all in white with accents of gold. My favourite Christmas song as a child was Nana Mouskouri's "Petit Papa Noel" – Little Father Christmas. He is the same size as the angel that is under my tree.
Good News
Christmas decorating reminds me that each person in the biblical account of the Christmas story was invited in. An angel came and declared "Good News," and they were invited to respond. I get to respond, too. That is a bit like Father Christmas. The story goes that it all started because of a man named Nicholas, who shared his wealth with those in need. He did it under the cover of darkness, for he didn't want the credit to go to him. If only he could see it now. This curly-haired figure I bring out each year reminds me of childlike wonder, something I should keep all year. He also reminds me of stealth generosity. Give, but don't be seen giving.
I pull out a menorah and Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh, the three gifts of the Magi. A few other little bags and baskets remind me of them.
The grinchy funk I began this task in slowly fades into the background as each ornament, light, and manger figurine finds the place to be their home for the next six or maybe eight weeks.
As I sit here staring at the tree, listening to the Christmas songs, I, too, find a home. Like the Grinch, my heart doubles in size, full of gratitude. The songs speak of the Messiah who came to earth to find me, loves me, and sees me—not just at Christmas time but all year.
Charity Mongrain is the Children and Family Ministries pastor at Eaglemont Church in Beaumont. She is also a coach, writer, and publisher. She is most passionate about helping people discover who God created them to be and finding their freedom in Christ.