Friends, I think it's time to talk about winter. I believe I have mentioned my volatile relationship with winter (or at least alluded to it when talking about my poor relationship with fall) but in case I haven't clarified, the summary is: Winter has not been good to me for a long time. I used to love winter, especially because of Christmas time, but starting 5 years ago, Winter began a trend of bringing nasty situations into my life to the point where I didn't even find Christmas time that enjoyable. Each winter, since this began 5 years ago, something happens to test me and put me through a lot of emotional turmoil. Winter especially loves to use medical issues with my mother as a way to get to me, and as I mentioned in a previous post, it's done just that this year as well.
Thus, during these winters, I was usually in the middle of an emotional crisis during Christmastime. My favorite Christmas songs used to be Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney, White Christmas kinds of songs, but while listening to the radio a few years back, during one of these winters, I heard Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" and it quickly became my favorite. You could say it's because it's fun, you could say it's because I'm in love with the Boss (all of which are true), but I think that main reason is because I am convinced that the sound of the bells and piano at the beginning of the song is the sound of hope. Seriously, this is what hope sounds like. I sat in my friend's car in Kenosha a few years back my mind full of worries, and tears came to my eyes when I heard the song, because I knew there was hope- God would not leave me without it.
Of course, the song places so much hope and excitement on Santa coming, because he will give us gifts, will give us what we desire, he's also a loving individual, and you should be good, because he's coming soon. Wow, Santa sure sounds like someone else I know. There's hope in Santa, there's hope in Jesus too. No wonder Santa is a symbol of Christmas, he's so Jesus like.
There are a few major differences however. One: Santa is easier to swallow than Jesus. He's a rolly polly sweet man who doesn't require much of you, just non-specifically, that you "be good" while Jesus is a a thin, table turning over, boat rocking, love demanding kind of man. That's why people are more comfortable with talking about Santa to their children and plastering him everywhere, even if they don't celebrate a Christ centered Christmas. Two: Santa won't forgive your sins. Santa is kind of like old covenant- you're supposed to "be good" and if you're not, well, that's just too bad, you get a lump of coal (fortunately, Parents are more forgiving). Jesus, while he requires more of you, will forgive you and still give you gifts even if you're "bad," you just have to ask for forgiveness. What's interesting though, is that I think more people believe in Jesus than in Santa, even though Santa is easier to swallow. Think about it, sure, almost every kid in America (and other countries) believes in Santa, but no adults do. Maybe adulthood makes you realize truth, maybe it makes you aware of sins that need to be forgiven, you just can't be "good." Maybe you realize how "bad" you were and that you got presents anyway- that forgiveness didn't come from Santa, maybe it came from mom and dad (with the help of Jesus). But I digress, the point is, no adults believe in Santa. Plenty of them don't believe in Jesus, but more adults believe in Jesus than in Santa. Also, a large portion of the children who believe in Santa also probably believe in Jesus because when you're young, you're blessed with a lot of faith in a lot of things.
The point of this, is that, despite the threats for this winter to be like the last four, Santa Claus IS coming to town. In other words, the hope that is conveyed through Santa Claus, but that really comes through Jesus is here because Emmanuel is coming to town. That hope, and the hope and peace God gave me due to his mercy, grace, and his willingness to answer prayers, have made this winter not so bad. My mother's medical issues are less life threatening and looking better, and even if they weren't, God would guide me through. I started out this winter, giving it a chance, then when it brought yet another situation, I promised to loathe it for all eternity and never to forgive it. Now, I realize, it can't touch me anymore. It took facing one of the worst possible scenarios (my mother's death- a situation more severe than any previous winter)- and when I say worst, I mean one more likely to get into the core of me being and destructively alter it or break part of me in a way that is difficult to repair- to realize the foundation upon which my being is built. In the past five years I've slowly acquired some new foundations and my core is now full of hope in God and his son, Jesus Christ, who will carry me through anything, who will only do what is best for me and those I love. This situation, that intended to bring me into a negative place, just made me step back and see all the blessings I'd been given that I didn't deserve, all the things I had from my mother that could never be taken away from me, all the gifts of friendship and love throughout my life that were never mine to keep. And because of this fact, I appreciated them so much more, and loved so much more. What winter used as a tool to shake my foundation, turned out a tool to solidify and verify my foundation. Of course, who can take evil and work it together for good like that but God? So I know He's been working away. In short, I'm actually enjoying and appreciating winter and Christmastime this year in an odd way- I've overcome this pattern, it can't touch me anymore.
I spent more time praying about my next phase, this time realizing I already have things planned in my head and have not opened the options up fully enough to God. In fact, I realized I spent so much time focusing on my own issues these past few weeks that my focus on God's will and ESPECIALLY on loving Jesus and God more than anything and anyone else was dwindling. It was like I needed to do my 70 days of loving God right all over again (which, I suppose we need to be doing throughout our lifetime). I lay in bed praying, somewhere between wakefulness and dreams and asked God to help me to see Him in the right manner, to view our relationship in the right way, to understand how God, Jesus, and I should be to each other. Something between a dream and a vision came to me- more of a vision than a dream as I was more aware that I was awake and it struck my consciousness differently that dreams usually do.
I was in some blue, brightly lit world- city and sea, some bustling marketplace, except the background was all washed out. The only clearly defined thing was the person in front of me. There was Jesus, like a beautiful boy from a romantic comedy- His features and the lighting held a surrealistic, artistic quality. The color had a washed out blue tint- the kind that highlights light- makes light obvious- white, brightness, and blue stick out of the pale palette distinctively. Jesus almost appeared as if his image had been scanned through a computer, into a "sketch" program, and printed out as a living sketch of a real photo. The lines of his hair, his eyes were so definitive, his skin light, his eyes a fierce blue, popping out of the palette of the foggy yet very clear state or place I had entered. I stood there a moment, breathing in how Jesus looked- how he looked like a beautiful boy I would fall in love with- except this vision was not my meeting someone I did not know and thinking I would love him, this was seeing someone I already knew I loved for the first time.
Jesus beckoned to me and I as I went toward him he embraced me- an embrace whose sentiments mixed with parental love, friendship love, and primarily, the intimate love of someone you're in a relationship with. He kissed the top of my head gently, lifted up his hand to show me something- and there my memory goes blank. What he held in his hand was familiar, seemingly trivial- something that seemed meaningless but was somehow significant because He was holding it. I can't remember what it was, but looking back I think that whatever the object is, I am like it- seemingly trivial- if someone saw Jesus holding me, they would ask, "why? why is he bothering with that?" without Him I seem meaningless, but because He's holding me, I am significant. Because he's holding me, making me significant, because God is with me, with us, I have hope. Hope I will come to know Him more and more the way I should and to live for him in whatever way He wills, no matter what the winter brings, the spring, the summer, next fall and next November brings (end of my 70 days). I see His face in my dreams, I watch my students' faces soften as they dream, I laugh as my friends and I share a meaningful moment, I listen to my mother's familiar voice still yapping away on the phone, I hear the E-street band's piano, bells and Sax on the radio in my cold car, and I have hope, because Emmanuel is coming to town.
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