reclaiming Christmas
/Today, I am reclaiming Christmas.
I've always wrestled with the holiday, for reasons I don't ever plan to share publicly, but I've celebrated because I'm supposed to. I protested in my own little ways, though. I'd switch to CDs when the radio cut over to Christmas tunes. I'd make plans for December devotions as a family but not actually do them. I've drug my feet each year about putting decorations up (pretending I was opposed to it pre-Thanksgiving but I was really just trying to avoid it altogether) and then struggled with taking them down because it pained me, reminding me of a near-Christmas event in my past that I didn't want to admit was part of my story.
This year isn't going to be easy, but I've worked hard to reintegrate all the pieces of my story - the brutal and the beautiful and the brutiful - into my life. Those dark moments don't define me, but they are part of what makes me who I am. And? For the first time I can remember, I want to celebrate Christmas this year... not because everyone else says I should but because I genuinely desire it.
I know it's going to be hard at times. This is one of those both/and sorts of realities... I'll be both reclaiming Christmas and grieving the full truth I'm finally letting myself feel about why it needs to be reclaimed in the first place. I'll be both celebrating the Christ child and mourning all the brokenness that made his ultimate sacrifice necessary. I'll be both letting in the joy and holding space for the sorrow.
Both/and.
And right now? My loved ones are on their way to pick up three artificial trees from Target (yay sales! yay slim trees since our house is jam packed as it is! yay ordering online! yay having a good excuse to go fake since the real trees aggravate some of our dear ones' asthma!). I've only ever had one tree before this year, even then begrudgingly. But we have mini trees from last year for each of the kids' rooms, and now one big tree each for my office, our family room, and the sitting area in our dining room. I got an obnoxious light projector thing for the house, and I'm going to be on the lookout for the most annoyingly ridiculous inflatable yard decor, because we're a lot of things in the Dingle household but classy isn't one of them.
And for the first year ever, I have a Christmas playlist on my phone, and I'm listening to these songs by choice, even before Thanksgiving.
I'm not sure what your both/and is this year. I'm not sure the stories you hold, the brutal and beautiful and brutiful ones. But I know none of us are alone, and I know the first Christmas found a messy, unsanitized birth in a dirty stable surrounded by animals and manure. So I know Christmas doesn't have to be all about the trimmings and tidy bows and sparkling lights... it's gonna be a merry, messy Christmas, y'all.
And I think that seems pretty perfectly imperfect to me.