Christmas Comet / Advent Day 22

Advent? Yikes! Christmas is barreling down on us. I woke up this morning in terror, watching the tail of a comet whipping through the front door at mach 10. The explosion that awakened me was the actual comet, splintering our log house, a comet which no one ever saw, by the name of Christmas.

When I caught myself, I realized my brain was making lists. I still want to write a lot to people I love, and haven’t, I still haven’t figured out how to do the gifts that I have for people, I have to do a couple of days full time of work for the UU’s to get credentialed, and I have a sermon at the fellowship in two weeks, and a service this morning to read up on, and a Christmas Eve service we’re prepping this afternoon to read up on...

Waiting. Breathing.

Yesterday the weather was warm enough, like officially minus 8 but actually plus 8 up on the hill, so we took Matteo out skiing. He was all enthusiastic on the stiff, short boards he has, hand-me-down skis. We just strap his Steeger Mukluks in, hand him his beloved brand-new poles, and he’s off, shuffling, in high enthusiasm.

After two trips up the stadium hill, I swooped him up in his chariot, a module on skis which hangs on my hips by aluminum poles, now puffed out with a kid’s down sleeping bag for insulation. Matteo’s angles and chills sank into the spongy womb, we zipped him up, and closed the chassis. Ready for delivery. Marin took off home and I took off up.

We skied trails which took me down the hill in the 3:30 pm twilight. I was surprised and delighted that these weren’t lighted trails. The temperatures fell as I went down, and I could get no glide at all trying to skate ski ourselves out of the colder vale below. But even the trudge was fun. It has been two weeks since the weather was even zero-ish-balmy to do this.

The real gifts are not given, they are not earned, they are received. Life, health, attentiveness. The cold, the sweat, the shortest-day’s descent into darkness, little boy fast asleep in the chariot, head bobbing as I load him into his car seat later. How to learn to see real gifts, to frame life so that gifts can be seen, to open hearts to grace upon grace?

Last year when I couldn’t figure out what to give Marin, I fell back on the "twelve days of Christmas" strategy, which I think should be the norm for every family. The widely acclaimed "Christmas morning" strategy forces you to put everything under the tree, tear it all open, and be done with it. It requires a lot of front end loading, in secret, and the gifts need to be wrapped, that is, they must be physical things, toasters, books, electric ear-and-nose hair removers, stuff.

The "twelve days" strategy is different. It allows for rituals to continue, the daily sitting by the tree, the daily lighting of the candles, the daily singing holding hands, and the daily opening of the presents. And the presents can be gathered, created, and wrapped along the way, allowing almost two weeks of returning to the graced moment of giving and receiving. And the instead of "objects," 12 days allows for "subjects," experiences, promises, and such. Like promising to be the family movie-warrior, getting a family appropriate rental flick the third Friday of the month for the next 12 months, with a bottle of wine, a batch of popcorn, and a mid-movie backrub thrown in. Of course you have to remember it, put it on your calendar, but that beats standing in line at Walmart to buy a plastic and aluminum combo fondue set / deep fryer.

Now I’m showing my hand. This is a great strategy when you’re forty or sixty and you have everything. You cry: "Just what I needed!" Because I need to break into new experiences so I don’t get crotchety. I need to frame what experiences are already open to me so I don’t lose the gift, the gratitude, the grace. "How did you know I needed just that?"

For the hilariously creative tale of a religion-blended family trying to negotiate the best of Christmas without the prevailing religious framing, read "Irving the Snowchicken is Coming to Town." (write me if this doesn't open, I'll send it. It's worth it!)