The Beauty of the Season

Last week, as I sat in church, I had a revelation.
What better place for that?

I'll admit that, as I sat, my mind wandered back to the Saturday night just before when I had sat in the living room of some dear friends, gaping at their Christmas tree as it slowly came together. I tied silver glittered ribbon to painted glass orbs and handed them off to find their way onto the artificial branches. The white lights set those orbs afire as they spun slowly, mindlessly, gently back and forth before coming to rest in the soft light.
I was so entranced with the beauty of it, I was momentarily afraid to speak for fear of spoiling the beauty.

I love white lights, and colored glass, and little stars, and white-glitter snowflakes, and garlands, and candles, and carols, and snow, and bundled people, mittens, scarves, hats, coats... I love it all so much sometimes I think my heart will burst...

Yet, while sitting in church, thinking back on the tree, I suddenly feel a bit guilty... that stuff is not what Christmas is about. Christmas is about the Savior, about His birth, about His Atonement, death, and resurrection. It is about His love, and God's love and what they mean for me in my life...

And then I hear Keats in my head saying "Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty" and I think: I love those beautiful things because of the Truth that they represent. If Beauty is a sort of abstract Truth-- something you can't quite put your finger on, but can sense nonetheless-- then the lights, the garlands, the snow, the music, the glitter-- by their very nature all mean: He loves you, He wants you to be happy, He will help you to be happy, fear not, love your neighbor, love your family, rise above who you are now to become who you want to be.... and do all of this because over 2000 years ago, a beautiful woman gave birth to the beautiful son of a beautiful God who loved you enough to give up everything for you-- and I can't think of any Truth more beautiful than that.

Merry Christmas, my friends.

Sometimes...

Sometimes life is crazy. Sometimes you almost die multiple times in one week: once by filing cabinet, once by train. Sometimes you enjoy way too much time with the customers at the Red Balloon-- hurried and frazzled as they are with their holiday shopping-- and they still have time to try to set you up with their grandsons, or go into cardiac arrest over your choice of vocabulary.
Sometimes you have an upset stomach that lasts for over a week, causing multiple people (including the waitress serving you and a boy on a first date) to ask you if you are pregnant. Sometimes said upset stomach keeps you from eating more than three bites on said date, thereby making you look like a total jerk.
Sometimes your mom is counting on you to help her get Christmas packages in the mail and bake breads for neighbors, but you repeatedly wake up at 4:30 and can't get back to sleep, leaving little brain power to be of any use to yourself, let alone anyone else.
Sometimes you have no money, and too many expenses.
Sometimes the cats smell and try to take over your bed.
Sometimes while you are in the middle of complain fest 2010 you turn to look nonchalantly out the window and catch a glimpse of the most exhilarating December sunrise you've ever been privileged to behold, and in that moment you know that God lives, and so does his glorified Son-- and life, with all of its imperfections, is somehow, suddenly, perfect.