Recently, my wife Sharon and I pulled out all the Christmas stuff to start transforming the decor of our home from Fall to Christmas. Turkeys were replaced by jolly Santas, and Fall leaves gave way to evergreens and the scent of pine. A big part of our yearly Christmas tradition has been going to cut down our Christmas tree and then stopping at Cracker Barrel on the way back. For a long time our yearly trek included just Sharon and I and our three kids, but has evolved into a much bigger event with the addition of two son’s-in-law and 5 grand-kids. It was inevitable that one day this tradition would not work out because of busy schedules and other time commitments. That day came this year.

On top of that, this was the first Thanksgiving we were alone together. It was a bit strange, but we actually enjoyed relaxing all day, watching football, and getting our Cracker Barrel fix for dinner. A couple days later we started putting up the decorations. All that was left was to get the tree. We have a fake tree that we put up in the front of the house that can be seen by all through the front window, but I’m talking about the real tree with the pine scent that we put up in our family room. To my amazement, for the first time, Sharon and I were not in agreement about what to do regarding the tree. This was always a time to look forward to. A time of anticipation and Christmas cheer. Though a lot of work, putting up the decorations and getting the tree was always a happy time that we both enjoyed and knew what we wanted to do. This year that changed. And I didn’t take it too well.

Over the years we developed, maintained, and anticipated our Christmas traditions. Traditions give you that warm fuzzy feeling and foster intimacy and closeness. That feeling evaporated after our tradition was questioned. The joy of Christmas was gone. I didn’t even feel like doing the decorations anymore. Even though we talked things out and resolved the conflict, the joy was already gone. I was surprised how quickly the joy left me. I was startled by the fragility of my feelings and emotions. It took me by surprise. If my joy could be stolen that easily, then maybe my joy was centered in the wrong thing. I needed time to reflect and talk with God.

Upon reflection, I discovered that much of my joy and anticipation of the Christmas season was centered around things other than Jesus. Jesus is the reason for the season, right? Right. I knew that. I know that. But if I was being honest, Jesus wasn’t at the center of it. There were other things that gave me more joy and warm fuzzies than Jesus. There. I said it. My joy was more dependent on my traditions than on my relationship with Jesus. That had to change. I contemplated what other things might determine my joy more than Jesus. Family? Finances? Relationships? Security? Comfort? Was Jesus enough? Could I be joyful if all I had was my relationship with Jesus? It’s hard to reflect and ask yourself these questions because if you’re honest with yourself, like me, you may not like some of the answers.

I’m determined to refocus my affections and joy starting this Christmas season. I love my wife. I love my family. I love my church community. And yes, I even love the traditions we created. But I want my first and greatest love to be Jesus.

When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy.

Matthew 2:10