At the end of Christmas day, my son looked up from his sugar-coma on the couch and sadly lamented, “I can’t believe that Christmas is already over.” I understood how he felt. In between the untangling and stringing lights, the gift-shopping, and cookie-baking, there’s so much sweet anticipation of Christmas. Hallmark and the cheerful strains of the radio promise this to be the most wonderful time of the year–but in the twinkling of a Christmas light and the tearing of wrapping paper, it’s gone.
This week, the post-Christmas blues may be settling into your home and your heart. My friend Greg described his response on December 26 a few years ago:
“I slept in, then had a late breakfast consisting of two items: ham and pecan pie. Lots of ham and two large slices of pie. I had my salty, I had my sweet, and it was excellent. But the rest of the day I kept chasing. I ate a box of Nerds—straight sugar—so naturally I followed it with some pretzels. But then I missed that sweet sensation, so I found some chocolate. By the time that was gone, I needed more salt. Hey, who took the cheese curls? I stayed on that bender through the New Year. I wish I could say that the net gain was zero, but it wasn’t. It was five.”
Pleasure can feel tormenting in its brevity, and not just at Christmas.
We live in a world saturated with pleasures. We need only to look out our windows to find God-designed creature comforts everywhere—gifts from a good God who delights in giving His children good things. We sink our toes into green grass, stare up at a midnight sky littered with stars, and bask in the glow of warm sunshine. We sense our Creator’s pleasure in a hard run, a joke that makes us laugh until it hurts, and the tantalizing smell of frying bacon. The list is endless if we only have eyes to see it. Crisp, clean sheets. U2 at Foxboro Stadium, the reckless joy of ‘take me out to the ballgame’ at the season opener, a daughter’s delight scoring her first goal. There is something deeply good and right about all of it.
But pleasure is both ever-present and ever-fleeting. It seems like the very moment you finally have it in your grip, it’s slipping like water through your fingers. When we’re young and naive, we assume that life’s sweetest pleasures are all ahead of us. When I get married, then I’ll be content. When I get that promotion, then I’ll be fulfilled. When I’ve been there and done that, then I’ll truly be gratified.
As we age and achieve a handful of the precious things that we’ve desperately craved, we slowly come to the realization that no created thing can satisfy the longing that our hearts so acutely feel. As Ravi Zacharias shared, “The loneliest moment in life is when you have just experienced what you thought would deliver the ultimate—and it has let you down.”
The good gifts that God has given us here on earth are merely reflections of the ultimate gift that He has given us in Himself. They are designed both to delight us, and to make us homesick for heaven. CS Lewis said it best when he commented, “The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? ” ― C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces
Whereas now we see dimly, as “through a dirty window”—one day when Jesus returns, we will experience the truest and best gift—our Savior—in all of His fullness. Only then, when we are finally home, will our restless hearts find their soul-satisfying rest.
As this New Year begins, may we enjoy the moments of pleasure and good gifts we’ll receive this year. But don’t forget that we celebrate something far more significant than the ill-fitting sweater that your great-aunt left under the tree. If you’re feeling the post-Christmas blues, look again at the breathtaking story of our Messiah – the One who can (and will) satisfy our deepest longings.
Adapted from
40/40 Vision:
Clarifying Your Mission for Midlife
by Peter Greer and Greg Lafferty
from Intervarsity Press
January 6, 2016
Great post, Peter. I once heard a wise man in a sermon term our earthly longing as “pining for that next Utopia”. The problem is, all our earthly utopias are fleeting and there’s always a bigger and better one over the next hill. You described this perfectly. Here’s to someday seeing through a clean window!