It's Official...I'm the Grinch!

This past Saturday I endured one too many helpings of Christmas cheer...and completely lost it. That's right, I was officially Grinch-ified. Working in a church is especially taxing during the Holidays. I get so burnt out on the songs, the decorations, the concerts, the productions, and the services that by December 1, I'm ready for it to all be over and...ugh, it's just begun.

Like the mall Santa in A Christmas Story I wanted to kick some children down the slide and out of my way. I'd been at church all day Saturday rehearsing the youth choir production with some teenagers when I suddenly remembered that I forgot about an important errand. I had arranged for someone to sew us offering bags and she was picking up the material (which I already had) and the cording to make a drawstring (which I didn't have). Crap. Off to Michaels? Nope. Target? Nope. JoAnn Fabric? Sheesh! After almost vomiting from the overly cinnamony scent wafting from the fake topiaries strategically placed at the entryway, I was greeted by a mass of people wandering about JoAnn Fabric on a Saturday night. Happy people. Buying fabric?!?! What the? I just need to get in and get out, people. Clear the way. I am buying cord for offering bags. That's right, I work at a church. I'm not buying something for myself. I'm not caught in the clenches of a consumerist Christmas. I'm here to buy something for a church, so get outta my way!!!

I (of course) didn't find enough of the cord I needed, but decided I'd just buy what remained on the spool and get started, but at a fabric store you have to go to the cutting station to get it measured and get your neat little slip so you can check out. Awesome. I just want the whole spool, but I can't go directly to the check-out. I have to make a detour to a cutter. I quickly scanned the store. Every cutting line has a line. A LINE. Nice. Well, I'll just go...here. About 2 minutes into my waiting, I noticed I had chosen to stand behind the Duggar's. Okay, not really, but this family had Duggar written all over them. You know, the we make all our own clothes, are homeschooled, and freakin' happy all the time? I didn't want to wait behind a family buying all the fabric for their winter wardrobe, nor at this point did I care to be around happy people. Crazy, I know. I feverishly scanned the room again for any hope of an open cutting station. Nothing. The lines at other stations were longer. I was trapped in an annoyingly happy hell. I felt my rage begin to boil just below the surface. I just want to get this whole spool. I wish I could just skip this charade and check-out. I am buying it for church remember? Gosh, I am so good and what, you are buying fabric to make your Christmas frocks? The fabric continued to pile on and on. 3 yards of floral polyester, 4 yards of...what? Blanket material. You are making blankets to give away? Great.

I started to feel like Scrooge and the Grinch all rolled into one. I didn't even care that they were giving blankets away. My thick casing of crabby crud was inpenetrable. Not even puppies and chocolate would've made a dent in it by now. I was gone. I was a B and it was showing. By the time it was my turn, the toxicity of my crab was poisoning those around me. The cutting station lady threw the cord and slip at me without so much as a word. I raced to the checkout only to find myself behind the DUGGARS! Really? A lady opened a counter when I was at the front of the line and a guy behind me rushed to her as his wife pointed to me and protested, "She was next". "That's okay", I replied in a snotty tone. "I've been waiting all night" I said as I shot a dirty glance toward the sweet blanket making family. I finally got to a checkout counter and subverted any attempt of the high school clerk at small talk. As I exited the store I took one last chance to say, "EXCUSE ME!" to the Duggars who were blocking the entire lane.

As I entered the safety of my car and started home, a wave of disgust immediately washed over my whole body. I actually shuddered or shivered or whatever you do when your whole body trembles at something disturbing and gross. That disturbing and gross thing was me. I didn't like me. My heart was disgusting. I thought, How great would it be if any ONE of those people go to your church and see you leading worship in a few weeks? Awesome. God would be proud of me...the hypocrite.

How can I be so self-righteous one minute and then so full of anger and impatience the next? How can I profess to have Jesus' Spirit living in me and yet spread the toxic crud of crabby to everyone I meet?

Maybe this season I need to actually listen to the lyrics that I am so quick to tune out. Maybe I need to once again reclaim the essence of Jesus' birth and His impact on our world. Maybe I need to learn to love in a way that is so simple, yet requires so much more of me than I realize. A smile and conversation with a family making blankets, a free pass ahead of me in line, encouragement to a high schooler working the long days of a Holiday season.

I want to like me when I get in my car to drive home because I'm stuck with me.