If I were a day, I would be honored to be December 25. People would look forward to seeing me roll around on the calendar, many of them anticipating my arrival for 364 days. People would be festive and thankful on my day, millions would sing songs to commemorate my day, and love, joy, and peace would be lavishly doled out on my day. My day would be most heralded and wondrous because my day would mark the celebration of the birth of the King of Kings.
If I were a day, I wouldn’t want to be December 26, but I would settle for it. Many people would still feel merry on my day, and they would enjoy my day with memories of the day before and perhaps the pleasure of not having to go to work. I would be a day of leftovers from the day-before feast, but I could be content to be December 26.
But if I were a day, I definitely wouldn’t want to be December 27. That wretched day is the day that many people are getting terribly antsy to rid their homes of symbols of Christmas cheer, they’re kicking the evergreen to the curb, they’re going back to “business as usual,” which for many means a steady stream of general grumpiness and cynicism. No, I wouldn’t want to be December 27.
This Christmas, I have especially felt the joy of celebrating God’s promise fulfilled when He sent His Son to the earth to be our Messiah, our Savior, Christ the Lord. My heart has been full because I chose to look in the manger and take God’s gift very personally as an expression of His love for me. My heart’s desire is to celebrate the Lord with as much gusto on December 27, and 28, 29, 30…as I did on December 25. Christian sisters, let’s remain joyful! And if we’re successful, we might just revolutionize December 27.