Christmas Joy

Christmas stories abound with images of lights strung across evergreen trees and sparkling snow. I’ve decided that when I sit down to write my own Christmas story, it will be about the expected and unexpected places where joy has warmed me from within, starting with wearing tights and dress shoes to church on Christmas Eve. Whenever I snuggle into my favorite Christmas scenes, those two items accompany me.

Every Christmas as a little girl, I wore shiny black shoes to church. They had a thin strap that slid into a buckle over my thick, white tights. As I held on to Dad’s hand, the crisp Minnesota air snuck right through those tights, and fluffy snow wriggled its way inside my tiny shoes as I carefully climbed the steps.

Years have passed, and the paint color on the doors has changed. Yet here I am marching up the same steps on Christmas Eve, wearing shoes and tights. There’s a twinkle in my eye and a bounce in my walk, and I can’t suppress a giggle as I pass through the same doorway into a church grand in stature and bursting with memories.

That magic I feel can only be explained as joy.

If I could choose the first three chapter themes in my book celebrating Christmas joy, they would be these:

Chapter 1: Light the way from within.

Christmas is the perfect time of year to bubble over with hope and share what we have in abundance with one another. It’s not often that a piece of architecture can remind one of that, yet it’s exactly what I’m reminded of each Christmas Eve.

My hometown church is beautiful. It’s a place of mystery, celebration, and history. The murals on the walls and ceiling, the chandeliers, and the painted glass mesmerized me Sunday morning after Sunday morning. People I love walked here in the past and walk here today.

Early morning light peeking in at the souls in pews on an ordinary Sunday morning is an incredible contrast to the darkness of Christmas Eve. Wrapped in night, the beauty of the church shines from the inside. On this night, we are called to be the light; we are called to demonstrate what God has poured into us. We are called to radiate joy. Each year’s Christmas story is a reminder of what Jesus set out to do in the world and what we must set out to reflect in the world. It’s a joyful thought.

May the God of your hope so fill you with all joy and peace in believing [through the experience of your faith] that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound and be overflowing (bubbling over) with hope. (Romans 15:13 AMPC)

Chapter 2: Be awed. Be consumed with wonder.

I’ve experienced the joy of church on Christmas Eve from nearly every angle. I’ve been a server, a reader, a greeter. I’ve played my flute, sung in the choir, and listened.

Regardless of my role, I find myself overcome with joy and wonder in a way I can’t explain. It’s the one night of the year when heaven seems closer, family seems closer, and treasured people are of greatest significance. I think that’s why I sing freely on Christmas Eve: I’m filled with happiness.

Oh clap your hands, all you peoples! Shout to God with the voice of triumph and songs of joy! (Psalm 47: 1 AMPC)

Chapter 3: Come home.

Mass on Christmas Eve means piling families and friends together and bringing in extra chairs from every storage closet in the church. There’s room for everyone, even for those who choose to stand. I’ve watched children cling to their parents, then stand on kneelers and seats, or stand on their own, or stand with people they’ve added to their families when they’ve come back home again.

During each season in my life, the readings on Christmas Eve have been an expected comfort, along with candles and song. The stories are simultaneously a strong foundation and a safe home. I’ve grown to think about the Bible and the story of Jesus’s birth this way: each verse is a consistent reminder, a resource that reminds me what’s true and consistent (like where Mom and Dad hide the key for the front door).

Home may not be a physical place for everyone. Maybe it’s a grounding in verses that speak truth and provide peace, such as the truth that God’s Spirit has a permanent dwelling inside you (see 1 Corinthians 3:16). Maybe it’s welcoming a spirit of happiness to where you are today. Maybe it’s both.

[Tweet “May the joy of Christmas welcome you home, wherever your “home” may be.”]

May the joy of Christmas welcome you home, wherever your “home” may be. Merry Christmas.

If you don’t see Lacey Rose Dixon taking photos or writing, she’s thinking about it. So far, she’s called Minnesota, South Dakota, and Michigan home, and her passport gets itchy for stamps. Lacey loves scuba diving with her hubby and crawling after her little man. Follow her @laceyrosedixon on Twitter.