On Advent, 10 foot tall Bumbles and blinging all the way

There was a season not long ago when the mention of Christmas brought the same snarl to my heart as a child opening a shaker of glitter in my kitchen would. Why? Just why?

“Festival of Consumption,” I grumbled inwardly while outwardly going through the motions expected of the mother of small children.

Then I discovered Advent.

I say “discovered” because I grew up in a church tradition whose December focus was looking backward to the Nativity (Christmas) rather than beginning with several weeks of looking forward to Jesus’s return (Advent).

There’s nothing wrong with either focus. Everything God has done is worth celebrating and there’s no rule as to when or how. But redirecting my December to what God has yet to do has been a powerful reset button for my wintertime joy.

Jesus came once. God kept His promise. He will do so again, ushering in the peace in which Isaiah promised the meek would someday delight themselves. Perfect peace. At last. Alleluia in the highest, indeed.

This new focus on hope has so changed my holiday outlook I can now spend the whole of Advent and Christmas rejoicing rather than Grinching.

Lights, presents, excessive amounts of baked goods? It’s all good. Glitter? Why not? One neighbor’s rapidly blinking lights and another’s 10 foot tall abominable snow monster? Yes!

If Bumble wants to lift high a star in what I am willing to assume is heartfelt celebration of Jesus’s birth — even with a motion sensor that causes his teeth to snap menacingly — who am I to judge?

For unto you and me and whosoever will, Christ is born! For unto you and me and whosoever will, He has promised to return — in order to permanently set things right.

Hoopla seems suddenly in order. Whoop de doing seems perfectly proper. It’s true. December now finds me blinging all the way.