Oh, The Dreaded Season is Upon Me

That's right, folks, I'm a scrooge. I love the reason for the season; love that our Savior was born in a manger and that we celebrate His birth at this time of year, but really, do we? There is so much going on that I find myself often putting Jesus at the bottom of the list--the list of "to do things" relating to this season that supposedly celebrates His birthday. Maybe I'm the only one who does that, maybe I'm the only one who totally forgets to pray one day because my mind is on all the other things I have to do. That's why I'm not a Christmas person--it becomes all about us and our children and our friends, and although I love all of them, it shouldn't be about what they want. That would be like giving your child a birthday party and getting so involved with the invitations, the guests, the favors, the games, the clothes, the gifts, and making sure that this is a spectacular party, that your child is pushed aside and all but forgotten. When the truly special part is spending time together and making sure they know they're loved, and remembering how wonderful the day of their birth was. That's what Christmas should be--a season to remember His birth and make sure it's all about Him, and let Him know how much He's loved. We can buy things all year long for those we care about. Surely, one holiday could be solely, totally, unselfishly about Him. Well, that's my soapbox, but when I get down, I'll go back to making the lists, checking them twice, planning menus, and looking forward to the end of the season when the hustle and bustle die down. Then in the peaceful aftermath, maybe I can hear His still, quiet voice.