This season, we must embrace the feeling of discomfort that comes with waiting. Not because we don’t love Christmas, but because it’s worth waiting for.
People think I’m a Scrooge.
My sister and I lament each year to each other that people are decorating for Christmas earlier and earlier. When I was growing up, decorating the day after Thanksgiving was considered early, and now it’s the norm, even among Catholics. Those of us who wait until even mid-December are the odd balls.
And I look like a Scrooge. I don’t play Christmas music until at least after the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. We don’t put our tree until Gaudete Sunday. And as the world around me celebrates earlier and earlier, I feel like the grouchy mom who tells us kids they can’t have that cookie before dinner.
This morning, I realized that’s exactly what I was.
But I’m not the mom who withholds a wonderful treat so that her kids will eat their boiled spinach. …
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