Friday, December 16, 2011

12. Mental Health at Christmastime

One evening last week I was driving to Edmonton to meet two of my kids at the Winspear to hear Michael W. Smith in concert with the Edmonton Symphony. (Wow!) As I drove, I thought of a poem I wrote during the Christmas season 17 years ago. I then amused myself during the remainder of the drive by reciting it from memory. 

I thought of the stressed-out mom who had written that piece and of how far she has come since then. But I was quick to acknowledge, too, that I still have some things to learn about handling stress. I thought it would be good to share this poem, to help us all keep perspective during this most special time of year. 

The Week Before Christmas 

’Twas a week before Christmas when I awoke in my bed 

Not with joy and good will but apprehension and dread 

Here it was the seventeenth of the month of December 

Still, on went renovations that began in September 

 

This neat little house that the Lord led us to 

Was subjecting us all to a total re-do 

All that morning I had planned to be painting 

Though I felt more like sleeping—maybe even like fainting 

 

But it had to be done; that much was clear 

In hopes that the carpet-man soon would be here 

I wearily crawled out to the big kitchen table 

Clutching my trusty, worn Amplified Bible 

 

“Lord, if I ever needed You, I need You now 

I’ve just got to get through this day somehow 

And by the way, Lord, if I’m doing too much 

I’d drop it all now: just convict me of such” 

 

Then I read a few verses and I went on my way

To get a good start on this formidable day 

Well, I won’t explain how: it’d take too much time 

And too many words in need of a rhyme 

But just ten minutes later, as neat as you please 

The Lord brought me down, and hard, to my knees 

 

“Forget the painting for now!”—oh, how my heart strings tugged— 

“And wait till the New Year to put in the rug!” 

So I let it all go, and I wept as I knelt 

With thanks for His grace and the relief I now felt 

 

Then I gathered my wits with no further delay 

With a fresh new perspective to tackle the day 

And a jolly good thing: there was much to be done 

Beginning . . . with the kids' dress rehearsal at one! 

 

Before then, there were still three costumes to hem 

A parrot head-piece to feather, attach Velcro, and then 

I suddenly remembered with a sigh and a frown 

Each of the wise men still needed a crown 

 

Did the morning have wings? How quickly it flew! 

How could I have painted? There was so much to do! 

Twelve-thirty, as kids gobbled hot soup down 

From poster-board I hastily cut each crown 

 

Then to give those crowns an appearance more royal 

Out came the good old aluminum foil 

With eyes on the clock, all the kids stood ’round 

My hands shook; my heart was beginning to pound 

 

I couldn’t believe how long this was taking 

Stress level at max; grey hairs in the making 

It was one when Greg chased them all out the door 

And I was left wondering was the rush was all for 

 

I wanted to arrive at Christmas rejoicing 

Not exhausted, with cynical sentiments voicing 

To enter His rest, from my labours to cease 

To celebrate the advent of the Prince of Peace 

 

So I built that day in my heart an altar 

And I pledged by His grace my resolve would not falter 

This week, I would follow His agenda, not mine 

So to be full of peace this Christmastime

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