my christmas story

Christmas is just days away.

I always count down the days until Christmas, but not for the same reasons as those who love counting down because it means they get to take one more piece of candy from the calendar or because I'm so excited about it I need to know exactly how many days are left. I count down because I'm so over it. By the time Christmas actually gets here I wish there were no Christmas at all.

It has been said by many people that I am The Grinch. It used to bother me that I would be labeled this. My response would be, "Just because I'm not drooling over everything red and green and singing Christmas carols at the top of my lungs, and because I don't love snow, and I hate Santa Clause does NOT mean that I am The Grinch. I don't try to take Christmas away from anyone and haven't stopped anyone or told anyone that they can't have Christmas, so just leave me alone and mind your own business okay?!" Yes, these words I have spoken many times. I think what made me upset the most was that I knew they were right. I am a grinch. I do steal Christmas from everyone around me. I take their joy and chew up with my bitterness towards this stupid holiday and I spit it right at them. I take Christmas from people who truly love it.

Sadly, I had not made this discovery in its entirety until just recently and this can explain my lack of blogging. I have been thinking about so much lately and haven't been really sure how to interpret my thoughts.

Since I've started going through Celebrate Recovery I have really learned how to examine situations and examine my heart to learn what is really bothering me. I can tell you that it's never on the surface. It's always that little splinter buried deep in my heart that over time has turned into something huge because rather than letting God take it from me, I have decided that "this one's mine" and I can take care of it myself. Except, I can never take care of anything myself... and nothing is ever "mine"...

With that said, I've really been spending a lot time exploring my heart and my emotions and truly identifying the real reason I hate Christmas. I feel like it sounds so stupid but I'm going to tell you anyway because who cares about stupidity?

Growing up, my parents always, always, always made sure we had the best Christmas mornings we could possibly have. I didn't know it at the time because I was so young, but this was so challenging for them. It's not easy when there are five children who are so excited about what they might get. Somehow, they always got it right. We were always so happy and thankful. Looking back now I feel an enormous amount of guilt because my parents were constantly giving up so much of what they needed to make sure we were happy. Maybe guilt is not the right word... I think gratitude is more appropriate.

Something else that was so huge in our family during Christmas was the big guy himself, Santa. I hate Santa now, but when I was younger I was always in such awe on Christmas morning. How did he just know I wanted all of these great things? And how did he manage to fit inside our chimney with out being burned? I was always full of so many questions and my parents always had the right answer. Santa was so magical.

Most children, girls especially, love all things magical. We love to believe that somehow we are a secret princess hiding out away from evil and one day that prince of ours will snatch us up and keep us safe. Anything pretend is always so real. We love to play dress up, spin in dresses, and use our imagination to travel the world.

I was a very imaginative little girl who loved to believe in the extraordinary. One day I would be a beautiful ballerina dancing my way to fame, the next I was a pirate trying to defend my ship and my honor, and some days I was just me. I would spend the whole day trying to plan my next adventure. I always believed it would be real someday. So, naturally Santa Clause just fell into place. He was magic. And I always loved a good mystery.

That was until I learned he wasn't real..... This really sounds so stupid, but I cried so much. Not because I was really all that sad, but because I was really angry. I hated my parents that day, but most of all I hated myself for believing in something so stupid. I was nine and so embarrassed that I let myself get caught up in something so pretend. I cried more when I realized that not only was Santa a fake, but so was The Tooth Fairy and The Easter Bunny. Everything that was magical and wonderful was suddenly taken away from me.... My childhood was taken away from me....

After that, Christmas wasn't the same. There was no magic anymore. I started to dislike Christmas when I was only nine years old. And since I hated Christmas when I was nine, why should I like it when I was ten? Or eleven? And now, twenty two?

Don't get me wrong, I love to buy and give gifts to others, but I just don't think Christmas is very fun. Over the years I've developed a million reasons why I don't like this holiday. I think the shopping hype is ridiculous, I hate the stress that goes along with it, figuring out whose family to spend time with first and deciding if I'm being spread equally is always a challenge, and these are only a few. But all of these things are so frustrating to me. I struggle every year, and if it were up to me I'd spend Christmas alone.

In many ways, I am alone on Christmas. I am not attached to tradition, I don't show a lot of emotion, so it's always hard for me to have love this day like everyone else around me. I don't always try to be so distant; often it just happens because I was distant in the first place, but then there are times that I know I'm far away and generally I stay there, but I'm not sure why...

This Christmas season has been especially challenging for me. This is my last Christmas at home and unfortunately I feel I still might be the same bitter girl I was last year. I've been trying hard not to be so angry and hate everything but it truly is all I know.

God has been really speaking to me these past weeks, and I have felt so strongly that He has been begging me to allow Him to change my ways so I decided that maybe I should try doing something "Christmas-y." I rummaged through my bin of craft supplies and found some things I liked. I decided to make matching ornaments for myself and my family. I don't really like them; they're cute and everything, but they're just ornaments. I did, however, enjoy making them. I felt nice to just sit alone and reflect on my emotions about this holiday.

I've come to the conclusion that it's okay if I don't love this time of year, but I shouldn't be so greedy to take it away from those who truly love it. I feel that, even though it may not be obvious, I have grown a lot during this Christmas season and I know that there is so much more room for continual growth.

I've also decided I want to let go of all of this pain and bitterness that I have been carrying all these years and I want to let God move through my heart and heal my hurt. I've decided that this one in not mine anymore; I'd like to give it to God and that, my friends, will be the gift I give myself.