For the first time in 30 years, our Christmas was going to be spent without children.
I wondered if Christmas even could be Christmas without most of the people I love, without our traditions and gatherings and togetherness.
Because that is what Christmas feels like, isn’t it?
The gathering and the together, with the special, once-a-year, rituals and practices that feel like what it means to celebrate the birth of Christ.
An abundance of joy and love.
So I contemplated dismissing the day altogether until we would be gathered; pretending it wasn’t really happening at all for everyone else.
Moving Christmas to suit our schedule, but trying to forget all about it until that time came.
Alas, I am not very good at pretending.
I found, however, that in spite of the incompleteness of the day for me, it did feel like Christmas, because it felt like Christ.
There was a quietness and a peace that allowed thoughts of His purpose, His mission and His motivations into my heart.
There was a reaching out that exemplified His character.
There was a togetherness in spirit, in celebration and in gratitude with those who were not physically present, but present with me nonetheless.
Still the light, the awe, the wonder.
Because of our unity in love, distance could not erase the blessed presence of Him, who is, after all, the One who inspires all of the goodness of the season.
I certainly missed the gathering of my family around me.
It was different.
But I found that it still felt like Christmas.
Because it felt like Christ.
