The Stinking Gifts of Christmas

Image by AgnesR from Pixabay

After a whir of concerts, recitals, and Christmas gigs, I was drained. I might play “Silver Bells” with its dream of “children laughing, people passing, meeting smile after smile,” but that wasn’t happening in my heart. I was being irritable with the people I love the most, and I was irritated with myself for being that way.


If I paused and painted a picture of Christmas, you wouldn’t see a “Holly, Jolly Christmas.” When I strip away the veneer of the carols, my soul goes back to the Bible in Isaiah 1:5b-6 (ESV):

The whole head is sick,
    and the whole heart faint.
From the sole of the foot even to the head,
    there is no soundness in it,
but bruises and sores
    and raw wounds;
they are not pressed out or bound up
    or softened with oil. 

That’s me this Christmas. I reached the end of myself, and it wasn’t pretty, but then God came down. He painted for me a picture of Christmas in Isaiah, setting the stage in chapter 1.

His people were laden with iniquity (Isaiah 1:4). Their evil deeds weighed them down and broke their backs, yet they stubbornly plodded on. They were wounded and suffering (Isaiah 1:5-6), yet they refused to seek help from the God who wanted to heal them. Instead, they offered sacrifices and celebrated their religious feasts, pretending everything was okay.

“Enough!” God cried.

Your new moons and your appointed feasts
    my soul hates;
they have become a burden to me;
    I am weary of bearing them. (Isaiah 1:14 ESV)

This empty religiosity was one load God refused to carry. “Give Me everything else,” God said. “Give Me your sin, your pain, your sorrow. Just don’t make Me carry your hypocritical ceremonies.” We find this promise in Isaiah 53:4-6 (ESV) where God foretold the coming of His Son Jesus:

Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all. 

God doesn’t want me to pretend I have it all together. He yearns for me to be honest with Him that I’m broken and I need Him to heal me and fill my heart. So when I wrap my gifts for God this Christmas, I’m not putting great deeds of righteousness under His tree. I’m giving Him my sin and my sickness because I trust Him. He came to earth for this reason, to carry my yuck, to receive my stinking gifts of Christmas. He loves me that much.