Christmas

Seems like something for someone else. It's a season, a celebration, a holiday, an occasion, a dinner, a gift, an eve, a day, and a cause for bargain-basement sales.

But in the aftermath, it's starting to become just another...
list.
chore.
labor.
pain.

I've tried to slow the pace of it by refusing certain social engagements. I'm catching great flak for that.

I've tried to simplify the day with the dictum that I only receive "one present this year, please" but to no avail.

What do I want for Christmas?

Candles.
"Silent Night, Holy Night."
Slow wine.
Bread and cheese.
Scripture.
The smell of cinnamon throughout the house.
Peace.
Remembrance.
The Spirit of God to reside in me, singing.
For me to give myself, thoughtful and joyful to the ones I love.

That's all.