Another little Christmas miracle; I am at the beach, my favorite place in the world, on this Christmas Day. I aim for Christmas perfection every single year, but I don't get Christmas perfection every year. I am very much aware that "Christmas perfection" is a combination of heart warming circumstances and a state of mind, the state of mind being the most crucial element. Therefore, I am especially grateful for the Christmas perfection I felt this year. We have an ENORMOUS set of extended family. No way are we able to gather everyone together most holidays. But a few showed up at our door last night and kicked off one of our best Christmas celebrations ever.
One of my favorite realities about our family is the flexibility of our Christmas traditions. We have many traditions we draw upon depending what seems practical for the current year. Each year there are themes similar to previous years and themes brand new.
This is our first Christmas at the beach. After gifts were given and opened with love and thoughtfulness, same as every year, many rushed to change out of pajamas into beach clothes to bike down to the water's edge and jump, splash, build and toss sand, while others burned energy on the beach basketball court.
I love the beach because it's the one place in the world where everyone understands how to live in the moment. No one expects a sand castle to last more than a few minutes or a few hours at best. Yet we throw all of our passion and joy into this effort as though we are sculpting the next Michelangelo. We don't grasp, stress or cling to this fleeting moment, knowing full well a similar moment might come again, but never with the exact same feeling. We enjoy and release it without question.
Christmas Day, on the other hand, is a holiday scarred with expectations unmet for many people. I have shed my share of tears on Christmas Day for one reason or another. Some of us give up and grow callus, loosing our childlike wonder. Some of us spin our wheels harder, trying to force it, only making it worse. I chose to simply try again every year with varying levels of success and failure, attempting, every year, to accept what IS. Striving and releasing. Striving and releasing.
Will we all get it right one day? Will there ever come a time when the afterglow of Christmas perfection lasts forever? Is it even possible, in this broken world, to live, all year long, in the true Spirit of the biggest Christmas miracle which took place two thousand years ago?
This is our first Christmas at the beach. After gifts were given and opened with love and thoughtfulness, same as every year, many rushed to change out of pajamas into beach clothes to bike down to the water's edge and jump, splash, build and toss sand, while others burned energy on the beach basketball court.
I love the beach because it's the one place in the world where everyone understands how to live in the moment. No one expects a sand castle to last more than a few minutes or a few hours at best. Yet we throw all of our passion and joy into this effort as though we are sculpting the next Michelangelo. We don't grasp, stress or cling to this fleeting moment, knowing full well a similar moment might come again, but never with the exact same feeling. We enjoy and release it without question.
Christmas Day, on the other hand, is a holiday scarred with expectations unmet for many people. I have shed my share of tears on Christmas Day for one reason or another. Some of us give up and grow callus, loosing our childlike wonder. Some of us spin our wheels harder, trying to force it, only making it worse. I chose to simply try again every year with varying levels of success and failure, attempting, every year, to accept what IS. Striving and releasing. Striving and releasing.
Will we all get it right one day? Will there ever come a time when the afterglow of Christmas perfection lasts forever? Is it even possible, in this broken world, to live, all year long, in the true Spirit of the biggest Christmas miracle which took place two thousand years ago?
I don't know. If it's possible, I haven't succeeded yet. I haven't made it all year long constant in the Spirit. But I won't stop trying. All of the heartache is worth it for these moments and the Promise that one day God will wipe away every tear from my eyes. Death, grief and pain will cease. In the meantime, let's cherish these moments that Glow.
2015 is nearly finished. I send love to you, from my home to yours, and Merry Christmas. To all a goodnight. Lets wake up, drink coffee, or your preferred start up drink, open your door, breathe fresh air, and carry this glow into December 26th.
