Losing Anxiety in a Time of Awe

A relative left a message on my answerphone a couple of days ago. He sounded a bit freaked out in a controlled way. He said, "Could you call me and tell me what you want for Christmas? It would help me a lot." I love him - he's a man of the world who gets in a dither about what to buy me. We had a hilarious conversation when I got back to him. Our family doesn't go overboard on Christmas spending but we do put time and effort into what we choose to give each other. Some anxiety ensues in this process.

Christmas has often been a time of mixed emotions for me. I have memories of some Christmases that I'd rather forget, and memories of some very good ones. For reasons I don't entirely understand this one day of the year seems to compress a lifetime of thoughts and feelings. There is this pressure - from where it comes I don't know - that the day must somehow be perfect, that it must recapture some lost ideal of what Christmas is supposed to be. The anxiety builds up over what to buy, what to prepare, who will be there, and how to respond to this, that, or the other possible scenario on the day. In more recent years our family has relaxed more and enjoyed the day without projecting so many of our unmet expectations into it.

I often think of what it was like for the first Christmas family. A woman nine months pregnant and travelling by donkey. The dust of the road, the discomfort, and being away from family and friends. The exhaustion of going from one place to another looking for a room for the night. Giving birth in a strange place where the animals were kept. The smell of that stable. And a little later people coming bringing gifts for the newborn child. Carefully chosen gifts. Some more expensive than others - the best each had to offer.

In the years prior to coming to my faith I considered Christmas a time to get together with friends and do what people do - eat, drink and be artificially merry. Although we complained about the commercialisation of Christmas it didn't hinder us from spending money on bottled Christmas cheer. It didn't occur to me in those days that Christmas was not about having the perfect family, or an idyllic day, or that everything should be centred on my comfort and happiness. I didn't know then that Christmas was originally about enduring some discomfort, not being in step with the rest of the world, taking the circumstances of the day as a gift, and being in awe at the reason for it all.

My faith brought me a new appreciation for this time of year. Instead of being a time to anticipate anxiously, it became, year by year, a time of reconciliations, of showing appreciation for each other, of healing certain misunderstandings. It has become for me a time of awe - of seeing the impossible become possible. It's taken time. Years ago I wouldn't see the family at Christmas. As much as I think of the arrival of the small baby and the message of peace, I find myself thinking too of the grown man and the suffering that came. So Christmas has been a process of faith for me - of dying to myself, my insecurities about family relationships, my need for more affirmation than some can give, and my desire for everything to be comfortably arranged to suit me. And paradoxically it has been a process of living again - of stronger family relationships, of continuing in those throughout the year, of being more comfortable with certain people. It has become a time of year when we meet together (except those overseas who phone instead) and in some ways has been nothing short of a miracle.

The process continues. Most of my family don't share my faith. Some will imbibe a little too much. But the atmosphere among us has changed. Now I find myself part of the hidden Christmas. The one that occurs while so many are rushing here and there, getting drunk at parties, and fighting over unresolved hurts and wounds. The hidden Christmas is simple, grateful, giving, joyful and awesome. Just as it was the first time. His name is Immanuel - meaning God with us. May God be with you this Christmas. It may not be "perfect" by some standards, but I hope that like me you discover the awe and excellence of who and what is really important, and the process of losing oneself only to find one's deepest desires fulfilled.

To those who have been reading here this year, and to those who may have just arrived, whatever your circumstances are at this time - have an Awesome Christmas!

P.S. Thankyou to those who voted for this blog in the 2005 Weblog Awards. You made it an enjoyable experience and I appreciate your support.