Another year over… have a nice day.

Only a few days into the new year and already it seems old. Actually, maybe not even a new year after all… just another month — another calendar — since the other one ran out of pages. I’m still thinking of Christmas. I’m thinking of all the chaos that surrounds Christmas – those who do and those who don’t: do Christmas. I’m thinking of all the expectations and the dreading other’s expectations. And I’m missing the songs. I’m missing the greetings in the local stores. After being able to say happy-Christmas for several weeks, “Have a nice day” just doesn’t seem to be ‘enough.’ But then, nothing is — ever enough, is it. Well, except for Christmas. I guess there gets to be a point where it seems like we all say: enough’s enough. That’s when we know we’ve really gotten our priorities out of balance — we’ve lost sight of what’s really important — what really matters.

Even still, I’m missing that special thing that Christmas always brings. And if I’m not very, very careful, I miss it at the time. I’ve had to guard against that my whole adult life – and probably much of my childhood, too (though I wasn’t ‘responsible’ for whatever Christmas meant and I guess my mama went through all of that at the time). There’s a very heavy aura about Christmas… the expectations, the hopes, the deep seated joys, longings, regrets and memories. Christmas music only seems to amplify whatever the emotion happens to be at the moment.

Many times as I was doing the dishes in the last month, I would hear: “I’ll be home for Christmas… you can count on me… please have snow and mistletoe, and presents on the tree. I’ll be home for Christmas… if only in my dreams.” And I would begin to dream. I’d dream about Christmas -past, Christmas that never was, Christmas as I had always hoped and Christmas that would never be. Several times, the same towel used to dry the dishes was used to dry the tears that seemed to well up at the most surprising times. And I’d sing along… And so happy Christmas…

When I accepted the Lord as my Saviour I had a real conflict of interest and many things had to be rectified. I had my little ‘t’ theologians and the Truth of the Word.  My little ‘t’ theologians were people I’d sing with all the time. You know, The Doobie Brothers — the little ‘t’ theologians who taught me to sing: Jesus is just alright with me (O, yeah!).   My little ‘t’ theologian, Cat Stevens who taught me mystical stuff that was hard to shake — because it sounded all so right.  And probably the deepest rooted, little ‘s’ spirituality and relativism came from the Beatles (and I was truly a diehard fan — much to my regret today). The more I read the Bible the less I would listen to all of that — the less I could listen to all that.

And the longer I walked with the LORD the more I saw that the enemy was subtly luring me with lies in all of that music — is it ever powerful: music. Jesus was more than just alright with me – He became my everything. So much music had to. go!!  And it did go in a big way one day.  I could no longer ‘imagine there’s no heaven’ – it was no longer easy (or desirable) for me to try —for I came to know there is a hell and above us not only sky.  And then there’re all the dumb songs I guess I’m really glad to bid adieu (even if I do get that sentimental feeling when I hear: deck the halls with boughs of holly, tis the season to be jolly).

So it’s another year over.

But some of the songs of Christmas still ring in my ears. I can hear the singing — the old songs, as I think of the old year, the new year. And Christmas.

And so this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
Ans so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let’s hope it’s a good one…”

It’s a new year.

Have a nice day.