Mry hita!

…possibly the strangest post title yet.

But there is a back story.

I was writing little notes in gift tags for my friends the other day. You know how sometimes you can write using different colors for every other word? Well I was writing this: Merry Christmas! and I had only written the red letters, so it said:

M r y  h i t a !

My sister happened to walk by at that time, and looked over at what I was writing. She was confused, but didn’t take the time to ask me what I was doing…she just laughed at me instead. Typical! But it was pretty funny. And because of it, my sister and I had our own personal Christmas greeting for each other this year! [pronunciation: murr-ee hit-tuh]

So I hope everyone had a very mry hita, or maybe one with all the letters in place, even. I know I really enjoyed going to the candlelight service last night and the service at my church this morning. I loved singing so many carols! And both services provided just what I was needing—a time to reflect.

Christmas eve is always so enjoyable. Wonderful food, a good time with my extended family, lots of memories to be made. I haven’t really liked Christmas morning for several years now, though. When I was little, Christmas eve/morning was always such a magical time. I remember riding home from my grandma’s house on Christmas eve, wondering if we would make it home before midnight so Santa would continue to go unseen (even though I really wanted to catch a glance). I always searched the sky the whole way home for a glimpse of his sleigh. I would wake up the next morning just knowing it was a special day like no other. Something had happened during the night while I was asleep. Something beyond Santa’s arrival. Jesus had been born! I don’t know if many people feel a different in the day, but I really did. And of course, my sister and I would always beg our parents to hurry up so we could open presents. Everything just felt so magical.

Now, though, I don’t feel the same way at all. Christmas eve is still fun, but Christmas morning just feels like such a let-down. I guess there is just such a contrast to all the fun festivities from the night before, and also all the days of Advent leading up to Christmas. The fact that the Christmas season is over starts to set in. At church this morning, it seemed like another other Sunday morning. Yes, the service was a little bit different, and there were several Christmas greetings exchanged, but it wasn’t drastically different or more special. I do admit I feel a little jealous when I hear people talking about the fancy dinners they have planned. When I got home today, I had some reheated leftover casserole. One year my dad, my sister, and I went to a Chinese buffet for lunch because my mom was working. That was the most depressing Christmas morning for me in all. It just isn’t special for me anymore.

I was bothered by my down-in-the-dumps demeanor today. Was it really that bad? I mean…really? I thought about my cousin who was helping at a homeless shelter this Christmas. I actually have it really good when thinking about this. I have a house. I have food. It may not be leg of lamb or carved turkey or homemade soup (not even reheated), but I don’t ever wonder where my next meal will come from, or if it will come. I have lots of presents under the tree, even if they don’t produce a magical feeling in me! Goodness, all these things are just extras, really! I forget the root of it all. The only part of our celebration that has lasting value. Jesus. His birth, his sacrifice for us. Immanuel—God is with us. I so easily take that for granted.

So I can safely say I had a very mry hita. I know the value of Christmas is not measured by how it makes me feel, thank goodness! Christmas has so many wonderful aspects, and I will welcome them all back next year!

Even Christmas morning.