Mennonite Weekly Review

’Tis the time of year when many of us compare the reality of our lives to the ideal of a Hallmark commercial. There is nothing wrong with Hallmark commercials, but I find that when I compare my life to them I end up feeling like I do not measure up.

Real life holidays are not as warm and fuzzy as commercials. Real holidays are mothers struggling to pay for heat as well as Christmas presents for their children. Real holidays are adult children trying to recreate family rituals for the first Christmas without their beloved parents who died recently. Real holidays are families with enough discord that not everyone can be together in the same house at the same time. In real holidays the houses have tables that are not set as beautifully as the one in Better Homes and Gardens.

Real holidays are immigrants who work long hours and struggle to learn English even while missing their family and traditions in their home country. Real holidays are the grieving hospice families who gather together for their last bittersweet Christmas with their loved ones, knowing that at this time next year there will be an empty spot at the table. Real holidays are families separated by war, living with fear and anxiety.

What would it take to free ourselves from comparison to the Hallmark myth? Perhaps admitting to one another that our lives and our celebrations won’t look like Hallmark this year, but more like the Gospel of Mark. There we find not a picture-perfect nativity scene but a young homeless couple, far from their families, beginning a life journey with their son that promises to end in grief and loss, if only for a time.

Perhaps if we each confess to one another the spots in our own hearts and homes that are the most in need of “Emmanuel, God with us” we would open ourselves to the delightful surprises of community and grace.

God has always looked for the places of brokenness, pain and grief to be born. Let us open our hearts and homes this holiday season to those who are grieving, hungry, cold, unemployed, lonely and suffering. In so doing we may find the best present of all. In the words of Hallmark, “let’s care enough to send the very best.”