It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

It's beginning to look like Christmas everywhere I go. And it's making me sick.

Toys and baking.

Shoes and purses.

Gift cards and gift receipts.

The hungry and forgotten.

The broken and infected.

The weary and alone.

What is the Christmas Spirit anyway? And how can I find it with these pictures seared on my heart? Who said it was okay to give and forget, even if it was just for Christmas Day? When did we believe them? How long have we lived in ignorance?

You say to feed the hungry; is that just a nice story? You said You came to save, to make what is wrong right again; is that just a holiday tale? Because here I sit comfortable, while they die of AIDS as well as the common cold. And it doesn't seem to be right. All is not made right. You came from heaven, but they're still living in hell. No, all is not made right.

Their deaths haunt me like Abel's blood crying out from parched ground. Their tears testify against me, against this life, this computer on my lap, this couch beneath my body, these socks on my feet. The salt of their sweat brings me out of the warmth, out of the mall, out of the mundane. What is there to do?

Go? I would.

Have You called me to go?

Stay? I would.

Have You called me to stay?

Send? I would.

Have You called me to send?

Yes. I believe yes is the answer.

Teach me, Abba. Because I don't know where to start. Be their Abba, too. Their sustenance. Their provider. Their Mighty To Save One. Be the head of the church; the church that gives their time, money, homes, families, lives for one another. And help me act like part of it.

It's beginning to look like Christmas everywhere I go. I wonder how You would have me change that...