A Little Christmas Magic

by Charity

That’s what was going to help fix things. 

I found myself thinking that a lot this holiday season when I felt like I was drowning.
“A little Christmas magic. That’s all I need.”

A little Christmas magic to make the heaviness of depression seem lighter. 
A little Christmas magic to make the physical pain diminish. 
A little Christmas magic to make my kids stop fighting. 
A little Christmas magic to make everyone love their gifts.
A little Christmas magic to help keep my house clean. 
A little Christmas magic for everyone to have grateful hearts.
A little Christmas magic to make the chronic fatigue more manageable.
A little Christmas magic to help me feel joy and happiness again.

A little Christmas magic was all I needed. 

I thought if I believed it enough, that it would happen. Because if it’s going to happen any time of the year, it’s most certainly going to be Christmastime where miracles are not only anticipated, but expected. It’s even in all the Christmas shows, right? Someone doesn’t believe enough, but there’s a little Christmas magic somewhere. It snowballs and boom: happily ever after.

I just needed a little Christmas magic. Just a tiny spark of something miraculous.

Spoiler alert: there was no Christmas magic.

Everything was exactly the same as any other day.
I hurt.
I was tired.
I was sad.
The kids argued.
The gifts didn’t make everyone happy.
My house was a disaster.
I tried.
I cried.
And I failed.
No Christmas magic in sight. 

I was holding out hope. I watched the clock tick up from 11:58pm, 11:59pm, 12:00am, December 26. Nothing.
Maybe I don’t deserve it for some reason.
Maybe I didn’t believe in it enough.
Maybe I expect too much. 
Maybe I haven’t taught my kids well enough. 
Maybe all that’s true. 
Maybe not.

But then I think back to that night in Bethlehem.
It was an ordinary day. 
An ordinary donkey. 
An ordinary teenager. 
An ordinary town.
An ordinary night. 

I bet Mary was whispering to herself that she just needed a little bit of magic to get through what was happening. A little bit of strength and wisdom. A little bit of sleep. A little bit of happiness. Just a bed, perhaps. 

All the ordinary gave way to the extraordinary. A Savior that ensures our ordinary lives mean something and that there’s something much greater waiting for us at the end. Eternal life where there’s no pain. No fatigue. No depression. No anxiety. No hurt feelings. And everlasting love. None of the bad stuff, and all of the good stuff. 

With that in mind, I’m trying to let my ordinary days, even on Christmas, be a reminder that the ordinary leads way to the extraordinary.

So although it’s what I want, Christmas magic is not what I need. I need a Savior who is going to sweep me up and love me even when these ordinary days are hard, and one who promises me something extraordinary in exchange for my heart. 

That’s not Christmas magic.
That’s faith.
That’s a promise from God.
And that’s anything but ordinary.

Merry Christmas, my friends.


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