Yes, I’m a Christian. I really am. And I love Jesus with all my heart, soul, and mind. I know I have the Holy Spirit inside me, loving, helping and guiding me 24/7. Yes, I know am forgiven because of the wonderful work our Christ did when He went to the Cross for us. I know that God forgives me, and loves me in spite of where I am in my walk with Him.
But I can’t deal with Christmas.
If I knew when Jesus was actually born, I would be celebrating it within an inch of my life. I celebrate Easter that way. Easter is my most favorite holiday of all time.
But this holiday feels so Pagan to me, I just can’t deal with it. So I haven’t been a part of it since 1986.
I told the family that I wasn’t going to participate anymore. At first they wouldn’t believe me. I told them I wasn’t buying presents but, for the next three years, they bought me presents anyway. I took them – reluctantly. But after those several years pasted, they finally got the idea I truly meant business. I was not going to participate in it anymore. So, finally, they left me alone. I don’t mean they totally abandoned me. They just allowed me to blow off Christmas.
I was six years sober when I had to bow out of Christmas. It was the year I had to get honest – or drink – and die. And, for me, drinking again was certainly a death sentence. I wrote a post on that called: “Tis the Season, Ha, Ha, Ha,”
Anyway, that was also the year I had to get honest with my father [my earthly dad]. He was so abusive that when I got out of his house, there was nothing left of me – I was a non-person. But at six years sober I had to stop the charade with him. “Yes daddy, you’re right [he was always right]. Yes daddy, I love you [love – what was that?]”. It had to stop – or I was going to HAVE to drink again – and die. I made my choice, and got honest. Though I was shaking in my boots, I approached him and – very tentatively – told him my feelings. I told him how I there was no room for a “me” in the relationship. I told him I’d see him with a therapist present; to maybe hammer out a new relationship with each other, based on mutual respect. He told me to F*** off. Literally. So, since 1986, I have not participated in Christmas, nor have I had a relationship with my father. He’s dead now. Yes, I am a Christian, but at his funeral, I felt nothing. I didn’t cry a single tear. I just couldn’t – honest.
Back to Christmas.
I’ve been a very busy blog-reader, and I think this is helping me. You are all helping me more than you think; so keep writing those posts. Anyway, this is the very first year that there is a stirring – about Christmas. Something inside me is saying; “There’s something you WANT to do for this season Robin.” And there is. It’s service.
I volunteer at my church. I’ve been volunteering there for about six months. Though I’ve been a Christian since 1982, and have been going to church since 1985 [I was a closet Christian for the first three years], I’ve never really participated in church service until six months ago. I’m one of those very messed-up Christians. A former Atheist; that’s how messed-up I was before I came to Christ. But I’m a greeter at my church now. And this is where I want to get back to around Christmas.
I’ve found myself, finally, in a new place around the holiday. Still no decorating; no tree; no presents; no cards. Nothing like that. The thing is, I WANT to be a part of others’ lives who come to my church – to play a role in making it happen. Where some, finally, make “the decision” to come to Christ too. I truly want to be a part of that for Christmas this year.
After all these years.