The "I Don't Care" of Christmas

This is a follow-up to another post I recently wrote. Enjoy!

So apparently there's this big holiday coming up. People are getting excited, and for some reason, extra mushy-gushy. Something about presents, a tree, and some other nonsense. Yada, yada, yada.

Is there any chance that this echoes how you feel around this time of the year?

If so, you're not alone.

Every year around this time, I get a little (read: very) cynical. Frankly, I stop caring about Christmas.

Say whaaaaaaaaat?!

Yeah, I know. I'm not a good American. Or Christian. Or both. Something like that. Feel free to stone me, if you please. But hear me out before you do.

I'm so fed up with everything about Christmas. This post should have made that clear enough. It celebrates everything I hate about America. Our materialism. Our self-centeredness. Our excessive wealth.

More than that, though, it celebrates a fundamental truth about each and every one of us: there's an emptiness inside of us that needs to be filled. We each recognize it to some extent and go to extravagant measures to fill it. Sadly, all the stuff in the world can't patch the crater that exists in our souls.

Sure, some of us think that "Jesus is the reason for the season." If that's really the case, why don't we show that? Christmas season lasts about a month, and yet we only dedicate a few hours of that month to "the reason" for it. Sounds like a big, fat lie to me.

Instead, we dedicate hundreds of hours to shopping, wrapping, and opening presents. The culmination of it all comes Christmas morning around the Christmas tree as we try our hardest to top the "magical" feeling we had the year before. Really, though, we're just looking to get more stuff than the year before, and if we don't, it's a "bad" Christmas.

None of it makes sense.

As I've thought about this, I've wondered what I can do to rekindle the true meaning of Christmas, even for a moment. I've submitted to the fact that, by myself, I can't make Christmas about what it truly should be. And it may never mean what it should. However, I have found that if I can claim moments of Christmas for what it should be, that must be better than nothing.

So I remember...

I remember the silence - the hundreds of years before Jesus' birth when everyone thought God had died.

I remember the pain - a teenage girl giving birth in a barn.

I remember the hopelessness - a child born at the worst possible time.

But I also remember...

God speaking. Not through word, but in action. Instead of just saying, "I'm still here," He came.

The healing. A broken family, united in love by a child.

The hope. A savior, born to bear the sins of the world, to give us a second chance at life.

And so, like Mary, I treasure these things. 

In a world of broken busyness and extravagant excess, I remember that I have a father who was willing to sacrifice everything for me, and not so I could spend my time giving people stuff they don't need.

People need to hear God's voice. People need to be healed. People need a new hope.

People need Christmas.

I need Christmas.

And though you don't care about it, maybe you do too.

... ... ...

Questions: Do you care about Christmas? What is your favorite part about the holiday? What can you do to enjoy Christmas more?

Assuming the Position: Maybe I Did, Maybe I Didn't

This post was originally written for and posted by Jamie, the Very Worst Missionary. Enjoy!

Alright, tell me I’m not alone in this:

You’re sitting in church, in those god-awful pews – who decided chairs weren’t good enough, anyway? – and you’re getting a little hazy. The eyes start drooping a little, the drool starts running from your mouth, and then suddenly…

SMACK!

The significant other next to you lays out a new bruise on your finely gelled hair.

Not cool, significant other.

After you get over the fact that you’ve just had a mini-stroke, heart attack, and peed your pants all at once, you’re suddenly more aware than you’ve ever been before. Even though the scenery is still the same, something is different. Your eyes have been opened, even if unwillingly.

That’s where I was at this past summer.

I’m a 21 year old male. I go to a Christian college. So, naturally, I would do my internship at a pregnancy center, right? Riiiiight.

Let’s just say pregnancy centers aren’t exactly overflowing with young adult males who like Jesus.

Thankfully, there were a few guys that graced our presence this summer. Except they didn’t like Jesus, which was fine by me. So we talked about other important stuff – like… sports cars fishing trying to stay sane while the girlfriend is pregnant. So basically, yeah, we talked about sports.

Once a week, though, I would sit in on a class with a few dads that came around this place. We would talk about the importance of dads – and by we, I mean, one guy would talk, and the rest of us would listen. We’d all be watching the clock, hoping God would have mercy on us, and eventually, we would get through the class.

This lasted for 7 weeks.

Seven weeks of sitting in a room, bored out of your mind with two other guys who were at least as bored as I was. And you could tell that the guy teaching didn’t want to be there either. You see, the guys in the class were what we call “court ordered.” So they had to be there. And so we had to be there to teach them.

Cue the head-bobbing, the glazed-over eyes, and the drooling.

Sounds a lot like church, right?

And then the significant other goes and ruins your good hair day.

It was our last class. In fact, it was after our last class was done, and I was so ready to be done with this stuff. I can only handle so much “dad-talk,” since I’d like to think I’m about 20 years removed from having kids (the wife would beg to differ).

And then it happened.

My significant other, aka, the God man himself, smacked me upside the head. And he made it about as obvious as it can get.

The teacher leaves to go print something off for the guys, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, one of the guys says, “Mannnn, do you believe in destiny?”

After I picked my jaw off of the floor and responded, he went on to tell me about some struggles he was having with his girlfriend and how he’s not sure how hard he should fight for her. I told him that I personally don’t think God has one special person for him and that if he doesn’t get it right, then it’s game over.

Naturally, like in all the good evangelism videos, he wanted to know more. And, frankly, I told him that I didn’t know much more. I told him straight-up that he needed to try praying. To which he replies, “I don’t know how to do that, man.”

WHAT?!

So I taught him to pray that day.

Anyway, I’ll save you the rest of the story by telling you that this kid wasn’t “saved” that day. He didn’t pray “the prayer,” and we didn’t baptize him. But I’d like to think that God got through to him that day.

God reached out to him.

And I'm still hoping, three months later, that this kid reached back.

So maybe I “evangelized” and maybe I didn’t. But I do know that I got to share the love of Jesus with that kid.

And that is all that matters.

... ... ...

Question: Have you ever had an experience like this? When (if ever) did you first "learn" to pray?

Don't forget to find a way to follow Life Before the Bucket!

Connected

Today is our first day off from school. Naturally, my body chose to wake up earlier than I have in weeks. Makes sense.

It's Friday.

For me, that means the end of school for another semester. It signals that there's less than a week until my application for graduate school is due. It also means preparing to travel to a good friend's wedding. 

What does this Friday mean to you?

To me, this Friday also signals the return of a practice I've abandoned, something I want to try again: Five Minute Fridays.

It's simple, really. You write for five minutes on a prompt that The Gypsy Mama. No edits. No nothin'. Just writing. An exercise made for Fridays, indeed.

This week's prompt? Connected.

On your mark... Get set... Go!

Living now is easier than it's ever been. We have microwaves, the internet, and Netflix. What more could we ask of life? And when we need others, it's easier than ever to find them, because we're always connected.

Whether through a cell phone, an iPod, a laptop, or even a LeapPad, we all (young and old) are connected at the hip (literally) with each other. And though it seems easier than ever to live, this is part of our 21st century world that is harder for me.

I crave solitude. To escape in moments of disconnectedness. It's not that I don't love being with and around and connected to others. It's the exact opposite, in fact. I love others so deeply that I need to disconnect. To recharge, refuel. To make sure my own battery doesn't die for the sake of those around me.

I love being able to connect with others through the medium of the internet, especially. With you, specifically, through this blog. And I want to connect with more people as time passes. For now, though, I'm content with the connection we've made today, and hope you'll help others to find a connection today, as well.

STOP!

Questions Do you enjoy our constant connectedness? How often do you disconnect from the world? 

Remember to follow Life Before the Bucket if you haven't already!

The War on Christmas

I worked out yesterday, but I'm not sore today, so I feel like it didn't count or something.

Ten days, seventeen hours, and five minutes.

Let me guess: you didn't even have to look and see what day I'm referring to.

So what was your first thought when you saw that countdown to Christmas? Excitement? Joy? Dread? Apathy? Disgust?

My first thought was definitely: "Holy poop, Christmas is in ten days."

My second thought was confusing, especially in comparison to my first: "Let's get it over with!"

Photo credit: Flikr - greyloch

Oh snap. I'm turning into Scrooge. Or maybe the Grinch is a more appropriate description. 

You see, I used to love Christmas. Like every kid, I loved presents. But now, I don't even know what I want for Christmas most of the time (hence this post). And yet, I'm told that there's much more to this holiday season than gifts. But I just don't see it.

Instead, here's what I see:

Commercialism. Selfishness. Materialism. Greedy spirits. Fighting and bickering among loved ones. A supposed "war" on Christmas.

Meanwhile, I'm left scratching my head, unsure of what Jesus has to do with any of this. Heck, I wonder if Jesus has any clue we're counting down to his big birthday bash with the way we act around this time of year.

Sure, charitable giving goes up. We're all excited to lend a helping hand to anyone who asks. But when it comes down to it, if things don't go our way, we're "bahhumbug"-ing the entire way through and could care less about those who are truly in need.

It's all insanity, and I don't understand it. Heck, I'm even a part of it!

We've taken something so simple, and yet so beautiful, and turned it into a monster. Frankenstein's got nothin' on the beast that we've created called "Christmas" (or as several people like to deem it around this time of year, "CHRISTmas"). No matter how you capitalize it, Jesus has nothing to do with what we're doing down here on December 25th.

Sadly, there is a war on Christmas going on. But it has little to do with retail and department stores. And it has absolutely nothing to do with whether you say "Merry Christmas" or "Happy holidays."

Truth be told, if you're "fighting" the "war" espoused by the media around this time of year, then chances are, you're on the wrong side.

The real war on Christmas is a one-sided affair, and most of us are losing the battle.

Christmas isn't lost, though.

I see it when people gather simply to be together, with no pretense of "gathering for the holidays" (and by "holidays," I mean presents). 

I see it as people share the Christmas story with their families from the Bible.

I see it when people give more than they are able to, because someone needs food or a home, and not just because we're worried they "won't have a Christmas."

Fight for Christmas this year, and remember what it's truly about.

Question: What excites you most about Christmas? What's your favorite holiday tradition around this time of year? How are you working to remember what Christmas is truly about?

More Reflections

You can see my first set of reflections here.

After reading a blog post from a blog that I truly enjoy, I find myself wanting to write simply for the sake of writing. Not for the comments. Not to send a message. Not to rattle cages or to make someone laugh. I want to write just to write.

Why? Because I find joy in it. Sometimes I find purpose and meaning in it. I don't know that it's "okay" in my mind to write without a purpose, but I wonder if I could be wrong in my thinking.

I write because I believe that God can communicate through my words. However, I know that he could just as easily find another way to give you a pat on the back today. Or to let you hear those words you desperately need. Am I wrong in thinking that God wants to use me?

This hasn't been the easiest few months. I enjoy most things less than I would like to. I believe that God loves us enough to let us enjoy life. But what happens when the joy ceases? Or decreases? Again, does this mean I was wrong and that I'm not to enjoy life? That doesn't seem to make much sense. But then again, that's the case with a lot of happenings in life. Trying to makes heads or tails of these events just makes them more painful.

I know a lot of things to be true. I'm smart, not because of anything I've done, but simply because that's how God created me. I'm not as quiet as I appear - I simply enjoy hearing what others have to say. I know that God has transformed my life in a way that no scientist can explain.

It's those things that I'm unsure of, though, that get me. When it's quiet and no one else is around - something else I enjoy - those things badger me, begging me to validate them.

I know, though, that God never intends those things to be known. Instead, he simply asks that I try to do what he wants me to do, and trust that it'll make sense in the end.