For Christmas, I promise to not give you a present instead of love. I can't give presents to everyone, but I won't give anyone a gift as a substitute for showing love. I won't try to buy anyone's appreciation by giving a gift wrapped with expectations. Every gift will be an expression of love.
For Christmas, I promise to not assess anyone by the gift they give me (or don't give me). What you give, how you give, to whom you give is your business. You owe me nothing. My kind of Christmas doesn't obligate you to anything whatsoever. Giving you the Gift of Obligation to give me something is no gift at all.
For Christmas, I promise to never say "Merry Christmas" without thinking about the birth of Christ. You don't have to believe what I believe, and I won't foist my beliefs on you. I won't constantly remind you what Christmas means to me. But I will be thinking about it ... I promise. I think it's a wonderful idea that God became man.
For Christmas, I promise to show you respect for whatever holidays you celebrate. That's the beauty of holidays. They are times of special remembrance for important events or values that are personally held by a group of people. Respect is one of the values Christmas brings to my mind, so that's what I want to give you. In fact, I'd like to learn more about your holidays, if you don't mind. I hope your holidays are filled with family, friends, and celebration.
For Christmas, I promise to not let my "bah, humbug" tendencies ruin your day. There's a lot about this time of year that I don't like, but there's so much more about this season that people do like that I promise to keep my inner Scrooge to remain inner.
For Christmas, I promise to not ask you what you got for Christmas. But I to promise to ask if you had a good Christmas (or holiday). By asking you what presents you got, I only reinforce the "getting" aspect. I won't even ask what you gave, because that becomes a backhanded way to do the same thing. What I do care about is if you had a good time with family and friends, or by having alone time. I do care if this time we take our focus off of the grind was meaningful, joyful, restorative, and healing. Did you laugh? Did you celebrate? Were there things to be thankful for? How did things go with that friend after the argument you got into over the summer? Did the grandparents get to see the grandkids? How's your dad's eyesight doing?
For Christmas, I promise to remember that this is a hard time for some. This might be the first Christmas since someone close passed away. Christmas may drudge up horrible memories. Christmas may end up being a lonely time. I get that. I've felt that a few Christmases. I wish I could give you the gift of something other, but what I can do is try to be aware if this ends up being less fun for you.
For Christmas, I promise to look forward to seeing you again. Maybe it'll just be a few days until you get back from Springfield (every state seems to have one). Maybe it will be months from now. Maybe years. But Christmas reminds me of the vast array of people we've met and how much we would love to see you again (including those I need to heal a hurt relationship with). We've moved enough to collect a pile of friends who we may never see again. I still want to, and Christmas makes me want to all the more.
No comments:
Post a Comment