I guess we all have our idea of what Christmas should be which probably comes from an experience we had when we were little. They say, “Christmas is for children.” Can you think of your favorite Christmas? It was probably with family and wrapping paper lying on the floor with a smell of a Christmas ham in the oven. I know that is what comes to mind when I think about Christmas.
Our family would travel from Chicago every year to Kentucky to be with my Mamaw, Papaw, aunts and uncles and cousins. It was the grandest time a child can have. My Aunt Margaret would always buy me the cutest clothes. I just loved everything she bought me and wondered how she knew what I would like. We loved coming to Kentucky to spend time with my cousins, Pam and Debbie. They would drive us around and take us places. I remember how people would ask us questions just to hear us talk, I didn’t know why because I thought they were the ones who talked funny.
Christmas these days have a way different meaning. My grandparents have both gone on to be with Jesus and the family that is left, is split up into “camps” as I call them. Traditions that once stood for something doesn’t anymore and this year, frankly, doesn’t matter like it once did.
There is awkward silence at work parties that leave you wondering if you have offended one of your co-workers or gave a goofy gift and nobody told you to your face. I have felt awkwardness while shopping when you see someone you haven’t seen in a while and have forgotten their name, so maybe you don’t want to say anything to them. Feeling awkward of buying the wrong size for someone or maybe they don’t like what you bought them.
Something came to me recently and that was how personal Christmas is to us. Meaning, it’s about Jesus, as it always has been, but this time He made it even more personal. He did it through this song that I heard for the first time the other night. Jesus is more precious to me now and Christmas means something way different than ever before in my life, and I could never thank Him enough for what He does for me and for us. Read the lyrics of Andrew Peterson’s song “Labor of Love” and tell me it doesn’t make you think differently.
It was not a silent night
There was blood on the ground
You could hear a woman cry
In the alleyways that night
On the streets of David’s town
And the stable was not clean
And the cobblestones were cold
And little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Had no mother’s hand to hold
It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love
Noble Joseph at her side
Callused hands and weary eyes
There were no midwives to be found
In the streets of David’s town
In the middle of the night
So he held her and he prayed
Shafts of moonlight on his face
But the baby in her womb
He was the maker of the moon
He was the Author of the faith
That could make the mountains move
Christmas doesn’t seem that awkward anymore.
Written by Tracey