There’s nothing like getting ready for Christmas to remind us that we’re sinners in need of a savior. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, but we feel overwhelmed and irritable. Some of us are exhausted or lonely. Shoppers rush by with their treasures — and their worries, and their dashed hopes, and their sorrow. We are inundated with images and sounds of joy and childish wonder, and it is so easy to fall into a vortex of comparing and complaining.
Let’s reclaim Advent and the whole Christmas season. Let’s ditch the negativity and string up new twinkling lights of goodness and gratitude.
I think that most of us complain without thinking, or even without noticing. Our complaints are inner dialogues with our idealistic selves or the women we are when we scroll all the pretty pictures. To stop complaining — even if you never utter the complaints out loud — take a good look at why complaints crystallize in the first place.
Negativity is our brains’ default setting. We tend to go negative reflexively. It’s a protective measure; if we think of the worst, we are braced for it. We can prepare ourselves for everything from disappointment to disaster. The reality, of course, is that more times than not, there is no disaster. But we’ve gone there in our heads and we’ve thought those thoughts and felt those feelings and expressed them as complaints. This time of year yields so many ways to default to the negative.
Maybe we’re discontent. A general sense of dissatisfaction with one’s circumstances can lead to complaining. We express discontent in an attempt to communicate a desire for change or improvement. Capture that thought. Instead of talking discontent to yourself, focus on the change. Your house never looks the way you want it to for Christmas? Turn your attention to one corner or one small room and bring your vision to life. Energy spent complaining can be better spent conjuring creative solutions.
Maybe we’re angry. Anger-driven complaining may be a way to assert one’s perspective or seek redress. Anger isn’t always a bad thing — but out-of-control anger is a sin. See anger as an invitation. Enter into a fruitful conversation, a calm and rational consideration of what is really at the root of your aggrieved wrath.
We often default to an endless string of complaints when we feel helpless. The sense that we cannot control or influence a situation — whether it’s your long list of seasonal obligations or your inability to make the Christmas budget work — can be a coping mechanism for dealing with perceived powerlessness. But are you really powerless? Instead of complaining, could you learn to say no this year, to take back your freedom to choose how to spend time and money? Learning to respect your own boundaries won’t turn your Christmas tree into a money tree, but it might just buy some peace in the presence of the plenty you’ve been provided.
As we are reminded by the desperate prayers in the opening lines of “It’s a Wonderful Life,” this time of year can be one of sorrow and disappointment. It can be wrought with fear and even life-threatening anxiety. Complaints are a way to express that worry and to seek reassurance. Turn those complaints over in your head. Get curious about them. Who? How? What can possibly meet you in that sorrow?
Come, Thou long expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.
There’s nothing like getting ready for Christmas to remind us that we’re sinners in need of a savior. The antidote to complaining is to sit with all your wounds at the side of the cradle. Better yet, climb in. Ponder the manger, and know that Christ wants you to make of your soul a place for him to rest. He wants to address your complaints and heal the hurts that give rise to them. Complaining is a habit. Most of us are unaware of how frequently we indulge in the habit, how ingrained it is in the rhythm of our lives. What if this were the Christmas you changed the rhythm? What if you simply swayed with the infant Jesus in the cradle?
Foss, whose website is takeupandread.org, writes from Connecticut.
