Issue 006: What's the worst that could happen?
Walking into Christmas Eve service as a child, one of the most exciting moments was seeing the box of candles by the sanctuary entrance, knowing that at the end of the service, I'd get to light it and hold something ON FIRE during church. I've attended traditional Christmas Mass, belted out rock-style Christmas carols at a non-denominational mega-church, and lots of different things in between, and, without fail, each of those services ended with an a cappella version of silent night, in the dark with candles lit.
Even as an adult, this is my favorite part of church on Christmas--this coming together, making a joyful noise, and lighting up the dark. However, as a person who has always been prone to anxiety about, well, anything and everything, I always had lots of little thoughts intruding on my worship prior to the lighting of the candles. Things like...What if I can't get my candle to light? What if I spill wax on my dress? What if I spill wax on the carpet? What if I burn my fingers? What if someone's hair catches on fire?! Not all ridiculous or irrational, but also not conducive to heartfelt worship and celebration of our Savior's birth.
Leading up to what could be one of the most beautiful and sacred moments of the service--the literal passing of light from each person to the next--I was worried about logistics. Now that I'm a parent, in these days leading up to Christmas, I can feel worries and anxieties creeping in in new ways. What if I ruin dinner? What if I forgot to send someone a card this year? What if I can't find where I hid all of the presents?! Basically, I think about not meeting everyone's needs and expectations. Again, not exactly conducive to contemplating the sacredness of Emmanuel, God with Us, or even enjoying time together as a family.
Maybe you can relate?
I wish I could remember where I heard this, but I once heard a couple discussing ways to push through worries. They played a game called "What's the worst that could happen?" For example, What if I burn dinner? I could end up like Tim Allen in The Santa Clause and eat Denny's on Christmas Eve with my kids (or be the dad with the burned hand, yikes). More likely, we would just eat some burned Brussels sprouts or open up a can of green beans and call it good. What if I can't find where I hid all of the presents? My kids won't have a clue a present is missing, and once I find it (probably when we move to our next house....), that kid gets a bonus very-happy-unbirthday present! Fantastic!
Sometimes, the worst that could happen is pretty bad. But I have found, with few exceptions, my concerns about Christmas (and usually in general) really don't have legs to stand on. I hope the same is true for you.
As we move closer to celebrating Jesus' birth, I am going to do my best to ignore the things that don't really matter and revel in the holy. I pray the same for you. (And, let's be honest, I'll be keeping a close eye on my middle child with that Christmas candle.)
Peace & Joy to you this Christmas!
Journal Prompt / Reflection
What are some of your favorite traditions or moments from holidays in the past?
Is there anything that is obscuring the sacredness of Christmas for you?
List a few nagging thoughts you've had lately. Now, go through a "What's the worst that could happen?" exercise. Read what you wrote and take a few deep breaths. How do you feel about what you wrote? Journal a little more about this.