I have had a long year. The last 12 months might have been some of the best, and the worst, I can remember. Back-to-back-to-back transitions, a crazy travel schedule, and reacclimating to life in Nashville has worn me out. And then yesterday, I learned of the passing of a dear friend’s mother. Friday, I hit the road again, four days in the Dominican Republic to see the work of Food for the Hungry first hand.
Needless to say, my typical Christmas-Countdown-December-Frenzy has been interrupted by pain, poverty and large dose of perspective.
And it’s got me thinking, wondering, if Christmas, as we know it, perpetuates the misperception of Christians and the Church around the world.
The trappings. The gifts. The way we cluster up in our homes, and our churches, with those we love.
Does this way we celebrate Jesus’ birth shout love, grace and peace or does it leave the have-nots feeling more empty, more alone and more broken than ever?
What if I was an outsider looking in? What if I didn’t understand the significance behind the birth of our Savior? What if I didn’t know the sacrifice that was made 33 years later? What if I hadn’t experienced truth, grace and unfailing love?
What would Christmas tell me about Christ? And His followers?
I can’t help but wonder.