Deck the Halls

If you were to visit my house, there would be little indication that Christmas is rapidly approaching. Besides the pile of gifts that are ungraciously stacked in my living room, evidence of the impending holidays is minimal. I’ve been blaming this on the fact that I’ve been having major electrical work done and efforts to decorate would be stymied by the workmen. But this is in reality just a convenient excuse. Even without the “scheduled” repair work, the chances of finding boughs of holly around my place are minimal. I’m just not that in to Christmas. (Although I do wonder . . .now that I have a roommate who’s name is Holly – I’m pretty much situated for Christmas all year round, right?)

I’m not a complete Scrooge. I like Christmas music – although not when the radio stations play it before Thanksgiving. And I love looking at Christmas lights. I could even get into Christmas caroling as long as there’s the promise of hot chocolate awaiting my return. But all the glitz and glitter; the decorations extrarodinaire; and the holiday themed clothing are just not my cup of tea. For me it takes everything that’s sacred about Christmas and trivializes it. Its like its making a mockery out of the celebration.

I realize that for many this isn’t the case. I come from a family who LOVES Christmas (almost as much as my friend, Alex, loves the Dallas Cowboys). For them, the hoopla of Christmas is part of what makes it special. The go to extremes because its a way to acknowledge the elaborate gift of our Savior’s birth. In many ways, I wish I could be like them. For me though, I can’t get into all the extravagance. I know that I’ll lose myself in the trappings and forget the meaning. I’ll worry so much about what seems obligatory that I won’t be compelled to worship. And I’ll focus so much on the holiday that I’ll forget the Savior.

So my house remains undecorated. Christmas-themed clothes are not to be found in my newly organized closet. And the gifts, while wrapped, are not done so in a way that would cause anyone to envy. It’s my way of not losing myself in the celebration and remembering the sacrifice.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to do both. But until then I hope that at the very least, my halls are decked with love.

Fa La La La La, La La La La.

What do you think?