The Christmas Spirit

So I’ve got a confession to make. I’m not in the Christmas spirit. I know what you’re thinking- does this chick have a candy cane up her tush? I know, I know….but this is unusual for me. I love  Christmas everything- the lights, decorating the tree, the music- in fact we get a Christmas ornament from every place we visit. I actually tried to get in the Christmas spirit early. I put up our tree in November. I hunted down my favorite Yankee candle so that smells of Christmas would dance around me. I’ve made myself listen to Christmas music on the radio when I’d really rather listen to NPR. I’ve killed my diet to consume Christmas treats knowing full well I’d suffer the painful consequences.

But it isn’t doin’ it for me. Even the adorable gingerbread house JD and I made- not working. To be honest, life is not quite handing me the winning hand at the moment. I don’t write this looking for attention or “Atta’ boy” comments. I wouldn’t probably post this kind of thing at all, but I read something the other day that really touched me.

In Elder Holland’s book Shepherds, Why This Jubilee?, he says:

“As happens so often if we are not careful, the symbols can overwhelm the symbolized. […We] need to remember the very plain scene, even the poverty, of a night devoid of tinsel or wrapping or goods of this world. Only when we see that single, sacred, unadorned object of our devotion, the Babe of Bethlehem, and understand his mission to save all mankind will we know why ‘’tis the season to be jolly.’

“[…] In these very last and most painful hours of her ‘confinement,’ Mary had ridden or walked approximately one hundred miles from Nazareth in Galilee to Bethlehem in Judea. Surely Joseph must have wept at her silent courage. Now, alone and unnoticed, they had to descend from human company to a stable, a grotto full of animals, there to bring forth the Son of God.

“I wonder what emotions Joseph might have had as he cleared away the dung and debris. I wonder if he felt the sting of tears as he hurriedly tried to find the cleanest straw and hold the animals back. I wonder if he wondered ‘Could there be a more unhealthy, a more disease-ridden, a more despicable circumstance in which a child could be born? Is this a place fit for a king?’

“[…] With only Joseph’s inexperienced assistance, [Mary] herself brought forth her firstborn son, wrapped him in little clothes she had knowingly brought on her journey, and perhaps laid him on a pillow of hay. […] Except for heavenly witnesses, these three were alone: Joseph, Mary, and the baby to be named Jesus.”

When I’ve pictured the nativity, I’ve always pictured wise men, shepherds, fluffy sheep, and little kids banging their wings into each other. But this year, I feel more of a connection to the manger scene as it is so accurately described by Elder Holland. Christ descended below all things so He can be there for me. This year the tinsel doesn’t have its usual sparkle, the wrapping paper isn’t shimmering quite as brightly, but because (for whatever reason) the magic of Christmas has been stripped away, it has left me feeling the light of Christ shining in my heart more than ever before.

I look forward to the lifetime of Christmases that will be full of magic. I will always love candy canes and stockings. But this year I'm thankful for this lesson. I’m thankful to my Savior for coming. I need Him.

I suppose I’m filled with more of the Christmas spirit than I thought.