It didn’t feel
like Christmas this year.
Jay hunched his
shoulders against the cold as he made his way down the sidewalk. How could
everyone act like things were the same when that couldn’t be further from the
truth?
The radio on his
shoulder crackled, and out of habit he bent his head toward it to listen. Lift
assist for station 2. Not his problem. Though he should probably get back to
the station. He’d needed a walk to clear his head and grab some coffee. Whoever
had decided to put the fire station next to the local coffee shop was a genius.
On the days he worked at Station 1, he was convinced he was their main source
of income.
Cradling the hot coffee in his hands, he
crossed the street and into the fire station parking lot. Outside the entrance
there was a bench, and he lowered himself onto it. Raising the cup to his lips,
he took a sip of the hot brew and winced as it touched his tongue. That was a
bit hotter than normal.
His breath swirled
in the icy air around him, but he hardly noticed it. Like everything else it
seemed surreal. There, but not really. Station 1 was nestled in the center of
the town square. The coffee shop, historic courthouse, a slew of local shops,
and the original Baptist church completed the arrangement. Above the church,
the bell tolled 6 o’clock. The sun had long since disappeared beyond the
horizon, and the moon was shining clear and bright. The shops were decorated to
the hilt for the Christmas season, with sparkling lights and red and green
tinsel lining every available space. Small bells rang out merrily as the
Salvation Army guys stood outside the shops, wishing everyone a merry
Christmas. In front of the church, the manager scene that had been there for
longer than he could remember was brightly lit. Mary and Joseph sat beside baby
Jesus, nestled on a bed of straw. Behind them, a brightly lit angel stood
watch. Which was wrong, he reminded the pastor every year. The angel came to
the shepherds.
Everything seemed
normal. Only this year, it was anything but.
He took another
sip of coffee and looked up at the stars. The stars are just holes in the
floor of heaven, showing us a bit of the glory up yonder. Grandma’s voice
played in his head, bringing a sad smile to his face.
It was a good
thing he was working this year. He wasn’t sure he could go and join the family
for their first Christmas without her.
Finishing his
coffee, he stood and made his way inside. In their living area, a large tree
had been erected and a number of gifts sat underneath its branches. Instead of
a star at the top, a fireman’s hat had been chosen to top the tree. Trent, his
overnight partner, looked up as he walked in. “Hey man. You feeling better?”
Jay shrugged and
plopped down into one of the recliners. “Yeah. Coffee always does the trick.”
Trent turned back
to the game he’d been playing. “I’m sure the nip in the air out there helped
some.” He paused and glanced up. “Did you hear about that call the other night?
The one Shelly ran?”
“Which one?” The
past few nights had been awful for their department.
“Suicide. Eighteen
year old home from college. Overdosed on Cocaine. He was long gone by the time
they got there, but they still tried because mom was on scene and beside
herself. Shelly was pretty shook up about it.”
“Oh wow. She’s got
a kid that age doesn’t she?”
Trent nodded.
“Yeah. Probably why it bothered her so much. She’s normally okay with stuff
like that.”
“Yeah it’s been
this year though. It’s been hard on everyone.” Even medical workers who were
used to seeing and dealing with death on a daily basis.
But there was
something about this year that just hit harder around Christmas.
Walking over to
the counter, Jay grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from the stack of treats that
seemed to grow by the hour. The people of the town sure did love their
firefighters. And he’d never complain about having more food to eat.
“Hey what do you
say we head across the street and sit in on the Christmas Eve service?” Trent
stood up and tossed his headset down onto his recliner. “Never know, they may
end up starting a fire with all those candles.”
Jay considered it
for a moment. It wasn’t likely they’d get a call. And even if they did, they’d
be just across the street. He shrugged. “Sure, fine by me.”
It’d been a while
since he’d attended Christmas Eve service. As a kid, he’d gone all the time
with family. Most years since he’d moved out though he’d been working, and
simply wasn’t able to go.
“Okay, it starts
in ten minutes so let me grab my jacket and radio and we can head over there.”
Trent ambled off down the hall toward their bunk room.
Ten minutes? Jay
scoffed. Leave it to Trent to leave things till the last minute. He made his
way across the room and stepped outside. The same bitter cold greeted him but
this time it was filled with white snowflakes that spiraled down around him.
The sight made his heart hurt. Grandma had always loved White Christmases. “Is
it snowing up in heaven, Grandma?”
The words were
barely a whisper, whisked off into the darkness by the wind. He knew Christmas
in heaven for her must be wonderful, but he sure missed her down here.
Unwittingly a list of the people who didn’t make it through the year began
running through his mind. So, so many would be without loved ones. And even
more wouldn't have any idea where their loved ones were.
At least he knew
where Grandma was. He’d watched the life drain out of so many people. People he
had no idea where they’d end up.
It was hard to
give family and friends hope and tell them their loved one was in a better
place when you knew darn well it might be a lie.
The door opened
behind him and Trent stepped outside. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Hey, you’re the
one we we’re waiting on. You took longer to get out here than my sister does.”
Jay matched his step as they made their way to the church.
“Bro, don’t ever
compare me to a female or I swear I will throat punch you.”
Jay only snickered
as they made their way on the church steps and into the sanctuary.
The place was
decorated the only way a small-town church could be decorated at Christmas.
Lights and tinsel hugged the banisters and pillars, while poinsettias adorned
both the piano and organ. In front of the pulpit a tiny manger scene topped the
communion table.
Trent nudged him
as they stepped through the doors. “Hey in case we get a page, let's sit near
the back so we won’t disturb the service as much.”
Jay gave a nod in
agreement. “Sometimes you do have better ideas than my sister, I’ll give you
that.”
His only response
was an elbow to the ribs.
The congregation
sang a couple hymns together, then the Pastor stepped up to the pulpit. He
stood quietly for a moment, his eyes resting on each person for a second before
he spoke.
“This is a
Christmas like no other, and I don’t think any sort of pastoral training could
have prepared me for what to say to you all tonight. So, I’m going to keep it
short. A lot of us are missing loved ones this year.” He paused. “And it really
doesn’t feel like Christmas.”
Jay bit his lip.
Maybe this was a bad idea. He really didn’t feel like hearing this again.
The pastor
continued. “In light of that, it’s a really good thing that Christmas doesn’t
depend on our feelings. Because Christmas isn’t about that. It’s about taking
time to remember the greatest sacrifice and gift of love ever given to us.
Christmas is not supposed to be a time to feel happy and content. It’s a time
to remember. Think about this. Jesus coming to earth was a cause for rejoicing,
yet He was also leaving the glory of heaven, He was leaving His Father to come
to this sinful world. We rejoiced, but for Jesus and the Father, it was a time
of great separation and loss.”
This wasn’t what
he had expected. Jay sat up a little straighter and listened. He had never
thought of the Christmas story that way before, but it made sense. Especially
this year. Rejoicing mingled with sorrow. Heaven mingled with separation. All a
part of the imperfect world they were made to live in as a light.
The Pastor
continued. “This Christmas remember, Jesus understands. Christmas didn’t feel
like Christmas for Him either.”
The words hit Jay
in a way he wasn’t expecting. Sure, he knew Jesus understood. But he’d never
thought of it that way before. Christmas wasn’t a time of rejoicing for Jesus.
It was a time of sorrow, because He knew He would be taking the sin of the world
on His shoulders. Because of love, He’d been willing to do it.
But that didn’t
mean it was supposed to feel okay. He didn’t have to feel alright.
Their pager went
off, startling him. Reaching down he adjusted the volume to a less-intrusive
sound, while he and Trent both stepped out of the pew and went outside.
Figured. He would have a call the one night he decided to go to church.
But it was okay.
He’d heard exactly what He’s needed to hear before they got the call, and that
wasn’t an accident. Because for the first time in a long time, he felt okay
about not being okay. God didn’t want him to have it all together. Jesus could
handle him broken.
Even on
Christmas.
