itsawonderfilledlife

To me there is nothing more beautifully Christmas than a quiet Christmas eve, with snow falling softly, a fire in the fireplace, loved ones close by and reflection on the birth of the Christ-child. All the anticipation and preparation of the advent season coming to conclusion as the hours tick towards the day we celebrate his prophesied arrive.

Very little of my own vision of Christmas is accurate, as much of what I love is so closely tied to the things that make me feel good.

I do love the symbolism of a benevolent Santa Clause, gift giving, and decorative lights.

Though I will never be a Christmas nay-sayer, I do find it healthy to remind myself that what defines Christmas for me, is not necessarily the definition of Christmas.

Christmas is really the first steps of Jesus toward the cross.

Though the birth of a virgin-born baby is joyous and miraculous, the prophesy of a coming Messiah was not fulfilled until his death and resurrection.

Christmas is messy, from the beginning, with an unmarried, pregnant virgin, and a people in need of a Saviour. The story only gets more muddied as Jesus travels through his short life, with a group of followers who might best be compared to Snow White’s seven dwarfs. Then his life culminates in the dung hitting the fan as his Earthly life comes to a bloody, seemingly hopeless end. It is not until Easter Sunday, when the tomb is rolled aside, and Christ emerges brighter than Mr. Clean, that there is reason for celebration.

And that celebration continues, for all people who humbly accept the gift, even today.

“… we have a Christ gift the entire year.”
(Dec. 24, 1871) Charles Spurgeon