Another Christmas…another string of lights on pine branches, popsicle stick ornaments, cordial cherries, and broken candy canes. (They always break at our house, anyway.) I struggle every year to make Christmas memorable for my loved ones, but dare not forget that many would greatly benefit from the amount we spend on wrapping paper and boxes to pile at the curb for disposal. I am not one to scold others for “extravagant” Christmases, because Christ’s birth was, without doubt, the greatest extravagance of Heaven given on our behalf. When blessed with the means, it only seems sensible to me that we would give more this time of year. The food should be better and the songs should be sweeter. Christ has come!
One cold, rainy day this week, my girls and I drove our minivan stuffed with gifts past a white-bearded man trying to thumb a ride. To offer a ride would have been unwise, but we did circle back and give him part of our supper. Still, as his silhouette faded in my rearview mirror, I couldn’t help but weep at how little we really had to offer and wonder if that was the only life he had ever known. Whose child was he? Or father? Would my children rest in safety and warmth that night because he had fought for their freedom in years past? Would he spend Christmas alone? Why was I the one in the minivan? Obviously, most are questions I’ll never know the answer to and all are problems beyond my control. Then, across the radio, a melody reminded me that Christ had come.
We can dwell so much on the negative, out-of-our-control things that the blessings of life come and go without having received our attention. We really can forget that He is here. I battle constantly with simply accepting that God is in control…that He is here! He hears the cries of neglected children and sees the tears of lonely widows. He feels the ache of soldiers far from home and longs to fill the souls left empty and searching for something to believe in. His Christmas present is simply that He was (and still is) willing to be present.
Tomorrow, I’ll visit the grave of a loved one departed. Someone who lived a life so beautiful that even the name carved in stone brings a smile to the soul and floods the heart with memories. Lingering close by will be that same Comforter whose presence is always “…nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.” I’ll need Him tomorrow, just like every other day, and He’ll be there. Though my needs are different from those of the weary, homeless traveler, I’ll be no less needy and His love and concern for me will be just as sufficient as to any other who calls on Him for help. He is “Emmanuel…God with us.”
Christmas is here, and that means Christ is here…with us…all of us.
The Music of Christmas
By Steven Curtis Chapman
There's a man who stands in the cold wind tonight,
And he greets everyone passing by
with a smile and a ringing bell;
And the song that he's playing,
is his own way of saying:
Love is here. It's the music of Christmas.
And there's a lady who sits all alone with her thoughts,
And the memories of all that she's lost,
When she hears a sound at her door,
And a song comes to find her,
as a gentle reminder:
Love is here. It's the music of Christmas.
CHORUS
So listen, listen with your heart
And you will hear a song in the laughter of a child.
Oh won't you listen for the sound of hope,
And you will hear the music of Christmas,
For the music of Christmas is love; Oh, its love.
So light the fire, tell the family to gather around,
So light the fire, tell the family to gather around,
And the walls will echo the sound
Of memories that are and will be;
And their voices, like a chorus,
will sing it so sweetly for us;
Love is here. It's the music of Christmas.
Long ago, a baby was born in the night,
Long ago, a baby was born in the night,
And as He let out His very first cry,
The sound was bringing hope alive.
Stars were shining, angels singing;
All heaven and earth was ringing:
Love is here. This is the music of Christmas.
