post-Christmas whatever .... Holy Days

This year, for me, post-Christmas is a severe cold. I don't have the energy to experience the blues because I'm distracted with some kind of weird virus. What kind of cold starts as a cough? Anyway ... three days later and now I have a runny nose. Isn't that backwards? It's a good excuse for not getting Christmas gifts put away, dealing with the clutter and holiday foods that take over the kitchen counter. All of this only delays the inevitable end of the festive days filled with excited shoppers, Christmas music, smiles and greetings, eggnog and bright and shiny lights. David thought we should sing Christmas Carols in June ... he had the right idea.

The English (and others) handled this stuff pretty well with the twelve days of Christmas -- Christmastide. These days followed Christmas, so the festivities and merrymaking continued, ending with "Twelfth Night," which led right into Epiphany, another feast day! Shakespeare wrote a play with a Twelfth Night as the setting ... David had a leading role in that play back in college, but I can't remember which one. I thought he was a king, but I'm not sure that's even a character. I'm not well-versed in Shakespeare, but I do know it is a comedy, not a tragedy! He was really hunky in his make-up. I'll leave it at that.

My grandfather's birthday was January 5, Twelfth Night -- but we never heard a peep about any such stuff -- but we always observed Epiphany (the next day) when we took our Christmas tree down. I guess more contemporary celebrations whittle it all down to a couple days rather than a dozen. We have to go back to work and back to school -- back to the routines of our overly busy lives nowadays. I bet the post-Christmas blues that some people suffer would be greatly diminished if we would continue our festivities (even while working and going to school, like we do for all of Advent ...) for twelve days. There is a catch, of course. These are holy days and Christmas has become so secularized. The justification would be more difficult, don't you think? According to Wikipedia (your friend and mine), "The first day of Christmas is Christmas day and each day is a feast in memory of a Saint or event associated with the Christmas season."

The days are as follows:
Day 1, December 25: Christmas Day
Day 2, December 26: Feast of Saint Stephen Saint Stephen is considered the first martyr of the Christian Church. This Feast day is mentioned in the carol "Good King Wenceslas". Boxing Day, a non-religious banking holiday occurs on the first weekday following Christmas.
Day 3, December 27: Feast of Saint John the Evangelist
Day 4, December 28: The Feast of the Holy Innocents. The Holy Innocents were the young male children ordered murdered in Bethlehem by King Herod, according to the Gospel of Matthew. The traditional Christmas song "The Coventry Carol" describes this event.
Day 5, December 29: The Feast Day of Saint Thomas Becket.
Day 6, December 30: The Feast of The Holy Family.
Day 7, December 31: The Feast of Saint Sylvester.
Day 8, January 1: Feast of The Holy Circumcision of Jesus, renamed as The Feast Of the Holy Name of Jesus or the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God. In middle age Western Europe the Julian calendar (which puts the beginning of the New Year around March 3) was not replaced with The Gregorian calendar (with January the first as the start of the New Year was not adopted in until 1750). The current Catholic Church does not recognize New Year's Day as an official holiday.
Day 9, January 2: Octave day of St. Stephen or The Feast Day of St. Basil the Great and St. Gregory Nazianzen. In England, the Lichfield Martyrs are also celebrated on this day.
Day 10, January 3: Feast of Saint John the Apostle or The Most Holy Name of Jesus:
Day 11, January 4: The Octave Day of The Feast of the Holy Innocents or the Feast of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, the first American Saint.
Day 12, January 5: The Feast of Saint Simon Stylites, the modern church recognizes this as The Feast Day of St. John Neumann.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twelve_Days_of_Christmas

See what I mean?

But what about our churches today? Of course not all denominations can agree on which saints can/should be venerated -- but a lot of those listed above are catholic (universal). I bet they could figure out a way. Could we not continue to be festive and show all that good will toward men (women and children are included there, of course) after Christmas -- even when we return to work and school, not unlike how we operate throughout Advent? My church sometimes celebrates Ephiphany. Some years we have a big party, complete with a hunt for a huge yule log, the task of bringing it up out of the woods, the subsequent bonfire and the obligatory King Cake (obligatory because whoever gets the baby Jesus figure in their piece is obligated to provide the cake the following year). In worship it's all about the arrival of the Magi, of course. A holy day. A holiday.

David's family cut off a piece of their Christmas tree trunk each year and rolled it up and packed it away with the Christmas stuff to be used as the following year's yule log. I'm not sure where they burned it all those years they lived in a fifth floor flat in Beirut, but I'm pretty sure they kept one nonetheless. David and I did that once or twice. I can't remember why we quit doing it! (We've always had a fireplace, except for a brief stay in a cave of an apartment in Alexandria.) Perhaps that's something the kids and I can pick-up as a family tradition this Epiphany, when we put the angel back in the attic ...

But back to observing twelve whole days in celebration of Emmanuel. I think I'm pretty correct in stating that the church is no longer the focal point of the family and the community like it was in the Middle Ages ... or even just a few decades ago! Sundays have become play days -- sports days -- days for things other than worship and fellowship with church family. The greater church holds continuous conversations on how to get people back to church. I wonder if intentional festivities of holy days might be a place to start? Festival of this and festival of that. Joy -- rejoicing -- worshipping that God loves us and is a merciful and forgiving God. Of course there's still confession and contrition, but the forgiveness is the big gift that warrants a celebration. Just sayin'.

So it's that time between Christmas and New Years when we sort of sludge through our days. Along about December 30, we perk up again. Maybe we have an invitation or two to a New Years party. Maybe we decide to go skiing for a couple days. Some of us travel after Christmas to have second Christmases with extended family. But even so, after the party horns have been silenced, the hats have been crushed and discarded, the champagne bottles tossed in the trash ... we wake up to a new year that is often marked by a simple return to the old grind. What's new about that? It can be very discouraging to many. But what if, instead, January 2 was another feast day to celebrate Octave day of St. Stephen or The Feast Day of St. Basil the Great and St. Gregory Nazianzen or whomever? Maybe we eat leftover pork and sauerkraut from our New Year's dinner -- bring out some straggler Christmas cookies -- have little gifts for everyone? I wonder.

I'm still working on this joy thing.  Right now I'm going to take some medicine, blow my nose and try to tidy some of the post-Christmas clutter.  I have my pork roast and sauerkraut already for The Feast Of the Holy Name of Jesus, but I'm not prepared for The Feast of the Holy Innocents!  What will I do? 

All Bright and Shiny ...

Advent is really a lovely time of year. For the most part, people are kinder than usual -- all that good will toward men stuff and all. Festive music, decorations and generosity abound! And the Christmas lights are great. One house nearby has gone all-out. People always talk about the electric bill ... I just wonder how the heck they can pay for all of those lights and decorations! I'm contemplating whether or not I need cheese or can afford to toss the odd box of candy canes into my shopping basket. Yeh. But that's not what I'm writing about. That's all dark and twisty, not bright and shiny. (That's Meredith-speak.)

I have been feeling very overwhelmed lately. It's not the Christmas rush. I actually have most of my shopping finished and am planning on doing some wrapping and shipping over the next few days. My daughter has been home and my son is coming home soon. I've been busy with other formidables preparing the church for Christmas -- singing in cantatas and helping with pageants. I just feel sad. I'm weepy. I'm disappointed. I wonder if I'll ever feel happy again. Oh boy. I'm sorry. I don't mean to bring anyone down. It's not that bad. I probably come off as bright and shiny most of the time, don't I? Hmmm. I'm not a sadsack. It's when i get alone and contemplate the state of my life that I get a little weepy. Damn. How did I get here?

The first Christmas after David died, my son wanted to do something new and special for his sister. He wanted to get the outdoor lights up before she came home after finals. Not only did he want to get the lights up, but he wanted NEW lights. Different lights. He wanted a tangible change -- something that maybe wouldn't make her sad -- make any of us sad. He didn't want to have anything to do with our "regular old lights." Nothing about our lives was regular. I guess he thought, perhaps, it would be wise to at least acknowledge that much! and "keep calm and move on," or whatever that little book is called. (I have a copy. My daughter gave it to me. Carry on! That's it.) Anyway, we got bold -- went with colored lights, instead of our conservative, "holy" white lights. We went retro -- got the big bulbs, like my parents had -- and changed everything all up. It was actually fun and exciting to do this with him ... for her.

But last year we didn't get them up. I wonder if we will this year. I feel guilty as I drive down my lane -- as I approach the driveway of our lone, dark house on the street. My bushes need to be trimmed ... suitcases are blocking the Christmas totes in the attic ... the house needs to be cleaned. The list of excuses could go on and on. Basically, however, I just don't feel like it. I'm sad. Dark and twisty ... Grief ebbs and flows -- comes in waves nearly unbearable at times and then makes a retreat for a time. But then it returns. Of course, holidays can be times of more intense grief, even when you least expect it ... and yet, all around me, the frivolity continues and I stand on the outside looking in -- so wanting to get wrapped-up in it and be swept away. I would love it if I had abundant energy to clean the house, decorate, bake, shop and even have a party! I sometimes stop and ponder the regularness of those things. How maybe someday it wouldn't take all of my mental energy mustered to run the vacuum cleaner or do the dishes. I have no idea when I might send Christmas cards again. (Actually, the liberty in NOT doing Christmas cards cannot be understated ...) When will I simply be happy again and not be sad?

Some may think it's choice. "Leslie, just choose to be happy. Just refuse to be sad. Get up early -- make the most of the hours in your day -- refuse to give-in to the sorrow."

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 5:3-10)

I believe that I am blessed! But I don't believe that "blessed" equates "happy."

bless·ed [bles-id or blest] adjective: 1. consecrated; sacred; holy; sanctified;
2. worthy of adoration, reverence, or worship; 3. divinely or supremely favored, fortunate; 4. blissfully happy or contented.

Okay, maybe I'm not blessed, according to this definition! However, I do believe that I am richly blessed by the loving kindness of many people -- and by the saving, merciful, grace of the living, loving God!

hap·py [hap-ee] adjective: 1. delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing; 2. characterized by or indicative of pleasure, contentment, or joy; 3. favored by fortune; fortunate or lucky.

Okay, sometimes I am happy. I will qualify that, however, by pointing out that the nature of happiness is often incidental (I would also say "fleeting"). Maybe I'm thinking more along the lines of cheerfulness. Whatever ... What I really need is true, lasting joy! and I know that it is moving around me -- waiting to embrace me -- waiting to take root and send-forth shoots and vine. I am becoming quite impatient for that to happen.

As most of the beloved who spend a lot of time with me know, I actually function pretty well. I laugh. I can be really funny, if I do say so myself. I join-in. I spend time in relationship. I'm not wallowing in a pit or a mud puddle. But mostly I'm just keeping calm and carrying on. Sometimes with a little more gusto than other times. Sometimes I'm sparkly and shiny. And sometimes the gusto level wanes a bit from a lingering sorrow and fatigue. But still, I carry on. Maybe when the collegiates get home, our combined energies will bring forth an attic run, resulting in a dining room full of Christmas boxes and the clutter of decorations and tangled strings of lights. Perhaps we'll get those bushes trimmed and wrap colorful lights on our blue spruce. We will, for sure, play Christmas music and do some shopping. We'll most likely even bake a batch or two of cookies. We will rejoice that God is with us. We will be thankful for Emmanuel -- and for each other ... and maybe even shine brightly here and there.

But tonight ...

Christmas Shopping

This is a really difficult time of year for me ... for many of us. The season of joy. Now as a Christian, I DO have THAT joy ... the joy of Emmanuel -- God with us. That's something to sing about! to wave my arms about! to proclaim! But the season of this joy spent without my soulmate is sorrowful at times -- painful. Most everyone has at least a bit of that kind of response, right?

I think it took a good eight years for me to stop crying during every Christmas carol sung during Christmas Eve candlight services after my mother died. Now I'm crying again. Why? Christmas Eve marks HOPE for mankind (humankind, to be inclusive). It's a time of great joy, right? So why do I always feel so stinking sad!? Well, of course it's because it's human nature to want to spend those joyful moments with the ones you love -- ALL of them. I keep losing them! God and me ... we have an understanding ... my children are off limits. Ha.

I just paused to give my attention to a package that was on my front porch when I returned home this evening. It was a delightful little package -- puffy and soft, in brown paper -- with a name and address that I recognized. I knew in my heart what was inside that unassuming wrapping. And I wept as I unwrapped it -- got the first glimpse of its texture and colors -- and then nearly sobbed as I read the message that accompanied it. Just at the right moment ... when my shoulders were cold and my heart was heavy -- I draped the beautiful hand-knitted prayer shawl around my shoulders and felt the warmth of the prayers prayed just for me: "Dearest Leslie, May you gently wrap this prayer shawl around you, may you be surrounded by its love, enfolded by its prayer, embraced by its warmth, and cradled in its womb of softness. May you be blessed through the wearing of your shawl, and carried by God's everlasting love." A dear friend -- now so far away -- knitted this for me with her own loving, aching hands -- and, around a gathered circle of saintly women, the shawl was passed through their praying hands and blessed by their loving hearts -- a "tangible symbol of love when words cannot be adequately expressed." Can you feel the love that I feel? Can you imagine their embrace? The warmth? It is inexplicable. Thank you, sweet women.

So with warm shoulders and a lightened heart, I continue ...

My daughter has been in my midst! and, so, my writing has been interrupted. I'm not ready to mandate that the words of my heart come only from a lonely place -- from a hurting place -- but I am ready to say that they do come from an non-distracted place! When she's near, I feel lighter. And I don't have all that free time that I had when I was alone here in my home -- interrupted only by my RBD. This season of joy ... certainly includes the nearness of her light -- her spirit. I only want to breathe that in and, so, the writing gets pushed aside. It's okay. I can return at any time, as I have tonight. (She's out with a friend! ha!)

I had another interruption: my son called! He is working through his last week of his first semester of college. He has lots of projects -- presentations and papers and stuff -- due this week. He had a guitar jury! and a speech to give. He called to receive my advice on how to present a paper that he had submitted! Wow! My brilliant son asked of my opinion :-) I am so proud of him. He has his final exams next week and then flies home to my comfy nest for this season of JOY and PEACE and recovery -- to rest and rejuvenate for his next endeavors. I do feel joy through the success and progress of my children! David and I did a pretty darned good job of raising these young, faithful, intelligent, thoughtful, productive, successful young humans. (I don't brag much, so please bear with me ... I am proud -- in a healthy way! ha.)

But back to the topic: Christmas Shopping. Oy.

Every year, David and I would contemplate the pleasure -- the sway -- of August ... then December. He intentionally tried to make August a month "at home." No travel ... no concerts. He was not always entirely successful, but he tried! And then December ... that "holy" time -- was set-apart (ordained) as family time. Usually, he would have a trip at the beginning of the month -- one concert to open the Advent season -- but then he was HOME. Home. Home. What a blessed word -- a blessed idea. Home. Rest. Family. Preparation. Advent.

One of David's favorite things to do was to go Christmas shopping. Every year we would collide with each other in that wondrous activity! We would set-out with a goal or two -- or none! and just shop -- with the intent of loving-on our family and friends with gifts chosen just for them! It was so fun! I would look at him and he'd look at me -- realizing that there would be no flights to depart upon -- no more concerts -- no separations -- for at least a few weeks -- just the two of us in that moment and the four of us for a weeks (with the mandatory morning fires and the RBD) and we would just sigh audibly! letting the stress of separation and work and travel fade away ... and think-upon those we loved and how we could make those sentiments tangible! Christmas shopping with David was GREAT! and I sorely miss it. He was light-hearted and frivolous! He didn't wince when I spoke of wrapping paper and bows and post office runs -- in fact, he volunteered to deliver boxes of good will to our beloveds. How can I possibly do this alone!?

Yet, I do ... to perpetuate that spirit of giving -- of love -- of good will -- as an example to our children -- to show them what this season of peace and joy and love is really all about. Isn't it curious? that the secular world embraces this "feeling?" this idea ... of good will, love, peace ... Emmanuel. They don't name it -- they don't want to -- but they do it anyway. Jesus wins, though un-named. CHRISTmas. It's right there in all of our faces: CHRIST. The savior. With us. Born. Humbly ...

So each year I gather the gumption to face the joy of Emmanuel head-on. He's here, no matter how I feel -- no matter what I've lost -- no matter my down-troddenness (thank you for your Beatitude ...) I wrap those gifts of love. We face the cold and chose the perfect (yes, not too tall, David ...) tree. We even conjure-up the emotional energy to decorate our home and wrap strings of lights around our blue spruces to show we love our risen Lord! But we still weep for those we love and whom we've lost because this season of joy is not quite complete without them: my husband (my children's father), my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles and dear friends ... and understand like some just don't -- that salvation is the real gift here. Without that gift, we are without hope -- truly bereft.

Thank you, loving God, for the greatest gift of all: a baby. A savior. Christ, the Lord.