Waiting

Today I awakened with a migraine. It’s Saturday and my hopes of catching up on sleep were dashed. I did what I normally do. Got up, took a double dose of Motrin and drank coffee. After about two hours the pain eased up and I felt like not having to cry. It was a rough Friday at work and I think the stress wasn’t relieved by sleep, hence the headache.

I have been home sick twice this month. I rarely ever get sick, but now I take a medication for my rheumatoid arthritis that suppresses the immune system a bit. It’s frustrating. But I don’t want RA spreading, so I take it. We live in fragile shells and have to cope with whatever happens in them. I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I have the ability to put things in perspective when I look at how others suffer far worse. My ailments are miniscule.

But I am struggling with Christmas. It’s always been a struggle in my adulthood. Americans make it such a spectacle. Both magical and commercial. Even the church can get caught up in the hype. My senses get bombarded by commercials and Christmas music that drones on endlessly. And all the while I wonder when Jesus will show up.

My church is low key in a good way. There is a tree and an empty manger, but the decorations are restrained. In the past it was covered with red and green and lights. I feel far more comfortable with less. It’s like Jesus isn’t going to get missed. He’ll be front and center when his time comes. I don’t want to lose what anticipation I have mustered.

This may seem a poor blog entry, but there are people just like me who are brokenhearted at Christmas. I think of being with my mother when she passed away during the Advent season. I still cry and it’s been five years. She was longing to go home and I whispered in her ear that it was okay to let go. She looked at me and said thank you. I did it knowing full well I would soon be kissing her for the last time. She passed away the next morning. I sobbed when I realized she was no longer breathing. It was a hard Christmas. But I am grateful I had the chance to say I was sorry for hurts and disappointments I had caused. And to say I loved her one last time. I have a peace about that.

Jesus is the reason for the season. Somehow my joy needs to be rekindled by him. I owe all to him. I was so lost. And he has given me a life beyond what I could have ever imagined. Challenges yes, but without him I’d be dead. No drama, just fact. I’m ready for his coming into the world. I won’t mind the Christmas music of the angels because they won’t detract from the King in the manger. They’ll announce his birth, then leave behind a silent night of wonder and mystery.

I can’t make myself be sociable for holiday parties. I just want to be in his presence. Worshipping the way he has taught me. Not like anyone’s expectations of how worship should look. But between the Lord and me. In the church we stand together. But we kneel alone before him. I might be struggling this Christmas season, but Jesus is near. And he is not judging. That was done at the cross. He is a sympathetic high priest. In the midst of pain, I will adore him. And he will love me.