What And Why I’m Celebrating On December 25th

Hope you’ve got a bit of time as this is a lengthy post.  Even been told it’s an essay.  I hated essays in school.

I have been haunted by my biggest demon this week.

I’ve had to step back this week and not live 1 day at a time, but 1 minute at a time.

I’ve had the “old taste” bothering me, just about all day, everyday. It’s the same taste I used to get when I had been without a drink for a brief amount of time. As closing time at work got closer and closer, the taste got worse and worse. Nothing different this week.

I’ve had that familiar feeling that I used to get when I took that first drink of the day. I’ve literally felt the “burn” that ran through my veins when I would take that first drink.

As the alcohol used to traveled through my system, I remember feeling my muscles relax, starting at my neck, then my arms, then my legs. I felt that sensation again this week. I felt it again and didn’t drink. I hadn’t had anything to drink.

I felt my face crawl as it used to when I had been without a beer for more than a day. It felt like little bugs under my skin running around. I started to get dizzy. My legs were weak. And the taste kept getting stronger and stronger.

Satan was testing me, wanting me to take that drink soo bad. He’s been missing me. You know what? For several different brief moments, I wanted too. I wanted to feel that, to taste that, to join him. But I didn’t.

I witnessed a guy at a Bowling Green gas station buy 2 of the tall beers using the last bit of quarters and change that he had. I knew what he was feeling. I knew what he wanted. It was worth the humiliation of paying for beer, with 5 dollars worth of change. Then hearing him make the comment “I’m just about out of money, I don’t get paid until tomorrow.” and I thought, you just spent what little money you had on beer? I’ve been there. It’s not a good feeling. I connected with his way of making himself feel better.

But even seeing him make the purchase, remembering having those same thoughts, I still wanted it. Seeing the glass bottles, ice cold, condensation building up and rolling down as he waited for her to confirm this purchase, only made me want them more.

Then placing the bottles in the bags, they disappeared. But the demon didn’t.

It was the devil in disguise, I know it was. I could hear him saying “go ahead Scott, it won’t hurt to have just one. Your in Bowling Green and no one will ever know. Go ahead.”

Each time any of this happened, do you know what I did? I grabbed Jesus’ hand and squeezed it as hard as I could. I talked to him. I asked him to help me. To get me out of this situation, or to get this thought out of my head. To help me battle this “demon” that had been sent my way. You know what he said? Just tell Satan what I did…”Away from me, Satan!” (mat 4:10). I would. The situation would subside, and things were back to normal, if only for a minute at a time.

He never got tired of me holding, squeezing, his hand. He never tired from me asking him for help, he never got tired of telling me what to do, because he loves me. And for that reason, I won my battles, this week. I didn’t take that drink.

You know, I was inconvenienced with this all week. Even after all of that, it was nothing compared to the inconvenience of the first Christmas. I know, I know, Jesus wasn’t born on December 25^th. Just, bear with me because JESUS WAS BORN. For me, Jesus deserves a BIRTHday. And God says it’s ok for me to do this.

Romans 14:5—-5One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. 6He who regards one day as special, does so to the Lord.

I am so glad that Jesus was born, no matter what day. Otherwise, none of this week could have happened. I couldn’t have talked to Jesus when I was struggling. I couldn’t have held his hand for comfort. So, I’m going to celebrate this Christmas as Jesus’ birthday, because I can.

I want you to see Jesus’ birthday as I’ve seen it in my mind. I think it’s fun to think about it like this. I hope I don’t offend anyone.

Joseph and Mary walked through the busier than normal streets of Bethlehem (which means house of bread. Fitting for the bread of life to be born in the house of bread don’t you think?). Shopkeepers in the city were probably busy with excitement. The town was swollen with people now and so many new customers had come their way for the census. (Luke 2) They might have even opened their shops early to deal with the rush of “accidental” customers from out of town. Joseph and Mary were just another couple walking down the street.

They were looking for a place to stay for the night. A nice place for Mary to possibly give birth to our Savior. Only to find to rooms unavailable because of the rush of people.

They went to an Inn and were turned away because all of the rooms were booked for the big event. The Inn keeper that turned them away, he didn’t know who they were, from Adam. He had no clue that he had just turned away the woman carrying the child that was going to die for him.

They had to settle for a manger in a stable. Joseph probably had to go in sweep the manure out of the way. Move some hay around to have something other than the ground to sit or lay on. I’m sure they were both tired from their travels. Then the time came…

Luke says in Luke 2:6&7“….the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn…” leaving out a lot of the details that I play over and over in my mind.

Nothing mentioned, but I wonder if there was sweat that was pouring from her head as she went through the pains of childbirth. Did the dirt that was on her face, turn into mud as the sweat mixed with it? Have you heard the cries of pain from Mary that came with each contraction? We know she had faith in the Lord because of her statement in Luke 1:38 “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me as you have said.” Then the angel left her.”

Do you wonder if she, at any point, had second thoughts because the pain was so excruciating?

Nothing is mentioned of the nervousness of Joseph. Was he standing over Mary? Maybe he was sitting by Mary’s side. Biting his nails or fiddling with his hair. Or, maybe he was pacing back and forth. Looking back at Mary as she screamed in pain. Knowing what he knew, did he still wonder to himself if everything was going to be OK with the baby? What about Mary? Was she going to be ok? Did he almost faint? Did he hold Mary’s hand? Did he rub her head and keep the hair out of her face? Did he dip a cloth in the water trough to cool her forehead and wipe the muck from her face?

Then the Word became Flesh. The Savior was born. Can you hear the first cries of an infant baby? Have you heard the first cries of Jesus as he came into this world? I bet like all newborns he was scared. He was used to being wrapped up in the walls of Mary’s womb and know he is in this weird place, and it’s cold to him. Mary’s heartbeat that he has heard for as long as he can remember, now replaced with weird sounds, scary sounds of the new world. Wisped from the darkness into light.

Mary then took some strips of cloth and wrapped him up. Carefully covering his body, but leaving the face open. Did she feed him right away? Soon his cries subsided as Mary held him close. Her warmth he could feel again, her heartbeat, though faint, was familiar. Jesus settles into the world.

Mary then lays him in the manger. The same manger that is used to feed the animals now holds our Savior. His big eyes open as he lay there. Darting back and forth, taking in the blurry new visions that surrounded him. There was Mary leaned over the side of the manger staring in amazement at him. Did he feel her touch his little hands? Did he wrap his little hand around her finger as she cooed and ga ga’d at him? Did he feel her rub his little feet?

Could he smell the stench of the sheep? Could he smell the manure? Did a speck of dust floating in the stale air of the stable, get in his eyes?

Joseph was probably leaned up against a pole somewhere by now. Finally getting to rest after all of the days excitement. Running the last events through his head over and over until he fell asleep. Thinking now about how inconvenient the whole day was only to have it end with the greatest thing to ever happen in history. And all those people in the town, kept about their busy lives not knowing that God was now among them, in flesh.

I am so thankful Jesus was born! So I’m going to celebrate this Christmas as Christ’s birthday. The day the greatest gift of all was given to mankind. The day my saving grace began.

Every day I celebrate Jesus’ life. I thank him daily for everything he has done for me, even though I so don’t deserve it.

Every Sunday, we celebrate and remember his horrible death on the cross. He gave us his life. He has told us “I love you so much that I’m willing to die for you,” and he DID!

I do believe Jesus deserves a special day of remembering his birth. Why not December 25^th? We have a 1 in 365 chance of getting it right. If we didn’t celebrate his birth, we would have a 0 in eternity chance of getting it right.

I’ll take my chances, thank you.

Because of HIM
SC