How Evangeline Couldn't Steal Christmas

The Season is here with a vengeance.

I have already:

1. Injured myself putting up decorations
2. Spent too much money
3. Decorated sugar cookies with white, green, and pink frosting
4. Donned a little black dress
5. Sat on a large replica of a sea turtle



Aren’t the holidays magical?

Actually, if I’m honest with you, I’m not feeling very Christmas-y this year. I think, like the Grinch, my heart is two sizes too small, leaving me cranky, selfish, and slightly green.

I feel sorry for the Whos affected by my deficient heart. But, well, they are annoyingly chipper, and they sing nonsense songs, dress funny, and then there’s the noise. NOISE, NOISE, NOISE.

You know, it’s not a totally bad thing to feel disconnected from the hustle and bustle of the holidays. My state-of-mind has made one thing clear to me. Christmas is not found in the ginormous boxes that hold the sections of our twelve foot tree. I can’t bring it home in a shopping bag. And I can’t put it on with my party dress.

But I think its spirit was here when my six-year-old insisted that we make a cross cutout cookie because Jesus came to die for our sins. And I think Christmas whispered in my nine-year-old's ear as he added the words “and that everyone would have a good Christmas” to his list for Santa. And the merry part of it showed up when I bemoaned the fact that I didn’t buy the all-over squeezy thing to go under my black dress, and my husband quirked a brow at me and asked, “Who is Oliver?” and then told me I looked beautiful.

If, like me, you’re feeling that your Santa costume wouldn’t fool Cindy-Lou Who, then I encourage you to at least recognize the moments when God reaches into your cold cave and touches your reluctant heart. I'm glad my Grinchyness can't stop Christmas from coming. I hope at some point this holiday season that I can be talked down from my ledge and convinced to join those weird little Whos in celebrating Christmas.