Christmas

While a seminary student in New Orleans, I wrote a piece about Christmas. This is now 23 years old which is how old I was when I wrote it. But this post is not about me. It is about the meaning of Christmas and the significance of the holiday. On this Christmas Eve let us remember why we celebrate in the first place. Merry Christmas.

---

Christmas.

Jesus and Santa Claus.

Wise men and fools.

A team of harnessed reindeer and a multitude of singing angels.



In essence, we celebrate the holiday with at least two expression:

Religious and Secular.



Christmas is a time of merriment and joy.

It is a time for peace, for benevolence, for a sort of justice.



We celebrate the birth of a baby who became a man,

And in turn became the savior of all people.



He magnified the message which was first proclaimed in a garden.



GOD LOVES MEN AND HE WANTS TO SHARE IN THEIR LIVES!



We eat candies and cookie s and again taste the bread of life.

We drink punch and champagne as we again drink the covenant wine.



We reflect over the past year and we look toward the one coming.

At the same time we reaffirm our commitment to our Lord.



We give presents and we thank God for the One He gave us.



May we some day unwrap the gift entirely and fully see its light.

And as we learn to use it, may we give it back to the giver

in a way that praises him.

---

Until the next time

John Strain

Stuff

In a couple of days we will get a lot of new stuff. George Carlin did a routine about stuff. He talked about how we get so much stuff we fill up our house, then we get a bigger house to hold more stuff. I was talking with a friend today and we were laughing about how we get stuff, but rarely get rid of stuff. Eventually, your house gets the way George Carlin describes - full.



The stuff I hate to get this time of year is the unnecessary stuff. Huge cans of popcorn that seem to hang around forever. Gag gifts like singing animals which take up lots of room and other items someone purchased simply because they had to buy me something and this was in the aisle at Walgreens. I do not intend to sound ungrateful. We all do this. I buy people presents I barely know, but feel obligated to get something. What I get them is probably as much a white elephant to them as the thing they got me. I am not offering some great solution today to this world problem, just making an observation.



Our house is about 2600 feet and we have been here for 12 years. We moved from a small two bedroom apartment. At first, the house was empty, but eventually we filled it up, just like George talked about. I just hate to part with anything. I figure, if I get rid of this item, I will have to buy another one later. So the material things pile up in mass.



My friend and I laughed again when we compared notes about the kind of furniture we had, starting out. Most of our furniture, I put together. O'Sullivn brand bookshelves, entertainment center, and microwave stand. I also put together a desk and some other items. What a job, once the contents of the heavy, flat box were emptied, it looked like a big mess. Slowly, though, the parts were identified and the instructions led to a completed piece of furniture. All of the "put together stuff" has been retired now, mostly.



I am tired of stuff and this year we are going to liquidate some of it. I want space that is not full of clutter. Less is more. Still, I get attached to things and hate to part with it. How many times have you thrown something away or sold something only to need it the next day? I have on numerous occasions.



What a problem. I have too many things. I have been blessed too much. I guess that is a signal to pass it on and share the wealth - at least that is what I am thinking. Much of the world lives in poverty. Our scraps would be welcomed by them. I do not need a bigger house, I need to give some things away - to someone who needs them.



I have received much more than I have ever given. That needs to change. It is time to give back. It may not seem like much to me, but the things I have to give may be a godsend to someone who is in need.



Just some random thoughts before I am showered with a new batch of stuff.



Until the next time

John Strain

Emotional Roller Coaster

I am a sensitive, caring, deep feeling person. However, one of my faults is I sputter when it comes to expressing said emotions face to face. Being touchy feely and hugs are not my strong suit, when it comes to individual relationships. I do better in groups, but it is a weakness of mine. I am not the first "guy" with this problem. I identify with the words from the country song "It Ain't Easy Being Me" which read, "I know the words that will bring you back, but I don't say nothin' as I watch you pack." I think I am getting better, but let's just say I wish I were better at expressing my emotions, especially intimate emotions. My outlet for emotional expression is music, movies, writing, and making videos. To further psychoanalyze myself a bit more, I overcompensate with humor to keep things light and avoid seriousness. Oh well, nobody's perfect.



I left out one important emotional outlet - sports. I can get emotional over sports. I will scream at the television, curse at the television, get mad, get happy and all in the course of a few minutes, depending on how the game is going.



Sunday, I was at Circuit City. My son works there and Barbara's Dad and "wife" were visiting from Vicksburg. They wanted to see John so we went to see him at work. Being Sunday, football was on and an electronics store is a great place to be to watch a game. I was standing by a big screen when an off duty cop walks up to me and asks me about the Saints game. I gave him the run down on the game and we discussed the Saints lousy season. They had to win the game today against Jacksonville or playoff hopes were dead. It is funny how guys have sports in common. We find instant friends or enemies depending on which sports team they like. For guys like myself who struggle expressing intimacy to others, this sort of superficial conversation is comfortable.



The game came down to this. The Saints had the ball with 7 seconds remaining and down by 7 points. Aaron Brooks the quarterback threw a 20 yard pass complete and after a series of laterals and hand offs, the Saints scored a touchdown. I was yelling at the TV with a couple of other people who came up to watch with me and the cop. We drew a crowd with our yelling and each of us who witnessed the amazing play were explaining it to various people and groups of people as they gathered and asked what was going on with the Saints. From despair of not making the playoffs to elation tying the game and going to over time, our emotions were on a real roller coaster ride and on their way up. But the ride was not over yet. The kicker missed the extra point. We stood there stunned. No one misses an extra point. A few expletives were hurled but it was striking how deflated everyone was. From elation to depression in less than five minutes. This only increases the theory the Saints are cursed. They have found more creative ways to lose than any other team.



Though my teams seem to lose a lot more than they win, I love the drama. The outcome is real. There will be no "twists" like some of the "reality" shows. One team wins and the other loses. They do not say, "let's call it a tie. We don't want to hurt anyone's feelings."



Here's to the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat: In life we get to taste from each vintage.



Until the next time

John Strain

The "Place" of Christmas

The other day in group, we were talking about Christmas. Some patients were concerned about being discharged before the holiday. A few did not want to leave until after the holiday. They all had a concern about place. Haven't we all had concerns at one time or another where we would be on Christmas? There is more than one movie showing twists of fate preventing the subject from being at their desired "place" for Christmas. In most of those stories a lesson is often learned - Christmas is more about the heart than it is about geography.



I cannot remember the first Christmas I spent away from my family. I have given it some thought and figured it must have been spent with Barbara and her family. I do remember my first Thanksgiving away from home. The important thing here is I wanted to be some place else, but it was not going to happen. It was 1979 my first year at the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. It just did not work out for me to get back to Missouri so I was bracing for depression and all sorts of imagined terrible things. I was invited to spend Thanksgiving with my roommate from Pensacola, Florida. Long story short, it was fine. I ate turkey, watched football, all the usual things - just with other people. It felt like Thanksgiving only different. I suddenly related to the Peggy Lee song, "Is that all there is?" - Is that all there is to not being home for Thanksgiving? I realized Thanksgiving comes no matter where I am. Thoughts can be like bullies. We cower from them, avoid them, and fear them. Once they are exposed like my Thanksgiving expectations, their power evaporates and when they come around again we can deal with them.



In the movies, the realization I had is much more dramatic and often humorous. Steve Martin in "Planes Trains and Automobiles," is struggling to get home to Chicago for Thanksgiving dinner. In Home Alone, Kevin is faced with spending Christmas by himself. While he likes the idea at first, he soon discovers his family isn't so bad after all. It's A Wonderful Life, Scrooge, Rudolph, all have a lesson. The solution is always a new attitude and a realization - Christmas comes no matter what. You may not have what you want, be where you want, or be with who you want - it still comes. If however, you learn to experience the true meaning of the holiday, then Christmas happens in your heart and your heart is always with you.



If you get to be where you want and with whom you want this Christmas, you are lucky. Our servicemen are far from home, our emergency workers stand at the ready, our phones, televisions, and utilities all work because people work on Christmas. I benefit from their sacrifice.



Even the first Christmas, Jesus was on the road and couldn't make it home. The hotels were all booked and he had to bed down in a stable. On second thought, maybe being away from home with strangers is a more accurate representation of Christmas after all.



Wherever you are and whoever you're with - I hope Christmas comes to your heart.



Until the next time

John Strain

What a Dream

Here is the dream I had last night. I was at a rather large house with wide covered porches all the way around it, a typical large southern home. I began to hear a helicopter and the noise got louder as the chopper neared. In my dream I thought nothing of it. It was probably coming or going from a nearby hospital. At the same time I realized people were running toward and past me I was hearing gunfire. Someone yelled something about the chopper. I dove into a corner on the porch behind some plants. The helicopter was circling the building shooting into it. Then it was gone. I crawled out of my hiding place and noticed bullet holes. No casualties that I could see, but things were still chaotic. I heard a lady exclaim. "They were disgusting," referring to the helicopter inhabitants, "they were naked and laughing as they fired the guns." Apparently, al Qaida was back at it. I glanced at the street and men were walking with purpose and some were trotting toward the City Hall. In my dream, I imagined they were going to muster a force to defend the town. I was still at the house and though there were people around, I was alone. The dream continued as I watched television reports reminiscent of Independence Day. There were live military feeds and the radio traffic was the typical calm professional voices of our soldiers. We had our own fighter planes and attack helicopters enroute to retaliate. Once they zeroed in on them all hell broke loose nearby. A rolling thunder of bombs and flashes of lights went on for several minutes - then silence. I remember feeling as though the threat was over, then I woke up.



Funny thing though, the rolling thunder of explosions could still be heard after I awoke. As the cobwebs cleared from my sleepy brain I realized the source of the bombs. My son was in the other room with his Play Station and the new Lord of the Rings game. It was 3:30 am. Don't those kids ever sleep! Oh yeah, they will sleep until noon. It cracked me up, but I still went out to turn down the volume of their battle. I had an 11 mile run to begin in a couple of hours so I returned to slumber.



When I got up at 5:30 am, two of John's friends were still playing the game. John turned in since he had to go to work at Circuit City at noon.



Just another night with a son who is a college freshman and whose friends like hanging out here. It aggravates the beejeezus out of me sometimes, but I know someday I will long for it - sooooooooo, I have strange dreams every now and then and turn down video receivers in the middle of the night. I also have a higher water bill, less food, lights left on, toilet paper never put on the roll, underwear on the bathroom floor, washcloths left in the shower. Am I really going to miss this someday? To keep a relative degree of sanity I will keep operating on that premise. I told Barbara I would get even with John. I am going to get Alzheimer's disease and he will have to take care of me. That will show him.



I think I am still dreaming. Have a great Saturday, go spend the rest of your money.



Until the next time

John Strain