ADAM VITOULIS 

My wife and I experienced a lot of “change” this year. We became first-time parents in January, the same week we lost our beloved dog. We lived as tenants in my parent’s basement, displaced until finally closing on our current home in the fall.

Needless to say, we learned to cherish anything constant in otherwise shifting sands. Christmas nostalgia has always topped the list as a source of “regular,” and “reliable” comfort. Perhaps some of you can relate.

Sadly, most of our decorations sat in storage last season, leaving us to enjoy a red, two-foot Christmas tree with a few colored lights and exactly zero ornaments. I’m sure you can imagine just how special it was to rediscover our decor this December. One bin in particular houses a Nativity set- lovingly passed down to me through a few generations. I carefully removed the figures, spending a little extra time staring at their quaint faces. They all looked as I remembered. The baby Jesus is even still missing a small part of his nose! I felt the same pleasant holiday pangs come over me.

There’s familiarity in the Nativity scene (especially for believers), as we’ve heard the story time and time again- and whether you prefer its depiction in a children’s pageant, lit up by figures on the front lawn, or displayed on bumper stickers and cards, it’s imagery has always existed to draw our attention back to the core of the Christ-mas season.

We all know what it’s supposed to be about, and we spend a whole lot of time attempting to remain focused and “feeling good” in the midst of everything else. By the time many of you read this, we’ll be in the final days of December. So, how’d you do? Did you meet all the decorating, baking, gift-giving standards? Did the family photos and newsletters get out in time? Did you catch the right movies and sing familiar songs? Did you harness some of that Christmas “feeling?” Did you talk to Jesus?

One thing has become evident to me in my own spiritual walk; feelings (and their fleeting nature) don’t matter all that much. There’s very little value in thinking fondly of the Christ child for a few brief weeks in December if it doesn’t stir my heart, redirect my thoughts, and change me for the rest of the year. The story of God’s redemptive love may have begun in a manger, but it climaxed at the cross, and I need to let that truth dictate my purpose. The Father, who sent Christ to cast light into my darkness, is entitled to my whole heart. Jesus, who came in a lowly fashion, did so to relate to my humanity, in order that I might acknowledge my desperation for Him. The Christmas star we so fondly reference still shines on the source of hope for those (like me) in need of saving. I want to recognize Him at every turn of life, not just as I gaze at symbols of the season. I want more than just a feeling. I am humbled and challenged by the words in

John 1: 9-13 “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.”

 May you each find comfort and joy in the nostalgia of the season. There’s certainly plenty of joy to be found. Just remember, Jesus is an all-year Savior. I pray He challenges you to see (and embrace) the whole picture of the Father’s love. May you recognize the Light of the world as a light meant for you; and receive Him fully, know Him well, and cherish Him as the one, true constant to warm your heart.

Merry Christmas, Adam