It is that difficult time of the year, these weeks following New Years Day. The gloom of January that comes with the let down of Christmas. There is so much excitement, so much activity, so many details involved in getting ready for Christmas, that the weeks that follow can be difficult.
Most of us have received a number of cards and letters and pictures in the last few weeks, and now the mail will begin to drop considerably. We are going back to the old routine, but with increased wind chill and cold, frost and dreary days, short days and long nights. It is a tough time of year.
Much of it is because we have little to look forward to. Even the most hardened of us can muster some Christmas spirit when the time comes, but most of us begin to feel the excitement build with each day passing. It is perhaps an aspect of childhood we never leave behind. And then it is over.
Really, once the ball in Time’s Square drops, there is not a lot to look forward to in January except un-decorating from Christmas. Even that can become a point of contention. When does one un-decorate? Should it be done right after the first or on Epiphany? Or should be wait until the Baptism of the Lord when the season actually ends?
Most families have traditional days to go through the hassle of tearing down the decorations, although there are always one or two houses that wait until the Fourth of July to get the Christmas lights down. Personally, I admire their tenacity.
For me, as I tear down the Christmas decorations, I tend to forget the lesson I swore to learn from the month before. “This year,” I tell myself, “this year I will organize the decorations and not just throw them together in a box so next Advent I don’t have to spend so much time trying to untangle everything.”
It is probably a pipe dream, because I will just tear everything down, stuff it all in a box and store it away for another year. I suppose it is because there is some sadness in taking down the green and the glitter, the lights and the holly, the beautiful wonder of the season.
There is just not much to look forward to when the decorations come down; it is then that the cold and dark of winter starts to become real. We may long for a white Christmas, but we know we will have to endure a white January, and February, and March, and maybe even April.
Unless you are lucky enough to have a birthday in January, there is not much to offer except cold and darkness and barricading parkas.
But does it have to be that way? The cold and dark months we face together do not have to be a time of depression and loneliness, a time of quiet endurance. It can actually be a time of great renewal and hope.
Like so much of our lives, it is ours to reclaim the wonder of these days. We may wish we had the time to be renewed in heart and spirit, in mind and body, but we all are given the same amount of time, it is up to us to take the time to allow our lives to have the peace we seek.
There is a substantial and biological desire in winter to slow down, to be more reflective, to be more relaxed. Our bodies are designed that way, although we tend to ignore the ancient call of our bodies and continue on as if we were in the heat and sunlight of August.
So, give yourself a January gift, give yourself the gift of peace. Spend some time during the dark time to be renewed, to listen to your body and the craving of your spirit. Spend some time in quiet each day; spend some time in prayer simply sitting in the presence of God, held in His lap and being loved by him.
Imagine the Christ child in the arms of Mary; be like that for a time each day.
Drink hot chocolate, go for a snowfall walk, listen to gentle music, take a hot bath, re-read the Christmas cards and letters you received; in short, do what makes you happy. If it brings you peace and joy, then do it. Make the time and give yourself the gift.
The message of Christmas is simple; God thinks you are worth it. This is how we come to believe it.