(December 2025)
A Holiday Poem
I’m neck deep in writing curriculum for my winter semester, so I thought I would share a poem I wrote a few years ago about the holidays.
Fair warning: it’s not snowflakes and sleigh rides and all things magical.
I don’t know when December and the Christmas season lost some of its luster for me. Perhaps it’s the overly busy schedule or the myopic perspective on gift giving. Maybe it’s the cloudy dates and the increasing darkness.
Every year, at this time, I wish for one thing: a simple Christmas. With no noise or lights or activities or stuff.
Forgive the cynical tone of the poem. But maybe some of the phrases will resonate with you. (And when you’re done, listen to Bing Crosby’s “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”)
A Lament for Christmas
I wasn’t at the stable, Lord
I was too busy at church
with the preparation of food
for the shared holiday meal
(I brought a bagged salad but don’t tell anyone)
and the donating of presents
and the writing of cards for the shut ins
and rehearsing the Christmas program for hours and hours
softening my “r” s until “Lord” sounds “Lawd”
and the entire chorus crescendos appropriately
to the forte news that your son is born.
I wasn’t at the stable, Lord
I was at the multitudes of holiday parties
which celebrate Hannukah and Christmas
and Xmas and Kwanzaa and nothing at all
(if that is your thing)
consuming chocolate and cheese and lots of small foods on sticks
and wine and beer and hard liquor
and even champagne
(even though it’s not New Year’s Eve yet).
I wasn’t at the stable, Lord
I was purchasing gifts
you see, I cut short our reserved day of thanksgiving
to push and shove in order to begin collecting gifts
to give to teachers and non-teachers,
to leaders and non-leaders
(I can’t even tell who is who anymore)
but I am proud to announce that I have purchased
dozens of perfect gifts, and dozens more of non-perfect gifts
and an innumerable amount of gift cards,
joyfully announcing to those who receive them:
“Jesus is born! Here—have some plastic.”
I wasn’t at the stable, Lord
I was at the local school,
I was dropping off items for their Christmas donation pajama drive
and food drive
and toy drive
and ziploc baggie drive
(because everyone should have ziploc baggies this time of year)
and the school Christmas program
(which, for the record, is different from the church program and yet very much the same)
I was prepping snacks for classroom celebrations
(because pretzels and popcorn and M&Ms are somehow directly tied to religious celebrations)
and making meals for support staff brunches
and covering playground duty
so that teachers could attend their own lunchtime Christmas party
(which, for the record, is completely different from the company parties and not at all the same).
I wasn’t at the stable, Lord
I was sitting on Santa’s lap
(which is a bit embarrassing to admit)
I wasn’t going to do it, but he was there
and I really just wanted to vocalize to someone
what I really wanted for Christmas
(portable technology or at the very least a gift card to purchase what I want)
I was participating in the gingerbread house contest (third place, thank you very much)
and riding the Santa train to who-knows-where
and sending Christmas cards to every address imaginable
(scalloped edges and matte finish, of course)
and starting every morning consuming a chocolate from my advent calendar
(the wine and cheese calendars sold out before I could get one)
and ending each evening pushing my own curfew in order to
watch every single Hallmark holiday movie
what does this have to do with the birth of your son, you ask?
no one seems to know, but frankly, no one seems to care.
I wasn’t at the stable, Lord
I didn’t get to hug Mary or fist bump Joseph
I didn’t get to smell baby Jesus
(because you know even the Son of God must have had that wonderful new baby smell)
I didn’t get to take in the simple complexity
of diety in the flesh, of unfathomable greatness in the smallest of humans
I didn’t get to “go tell it on the mountains” with the shepherds
that “Jesus Christ was born,”
not because it was an evite requiring my RSVP
but because, in the stillness of the moment was joy
True
Joy
“joy to the world” kind of joy
and the response to that joy
was adoration
and excitement
and jubilation
that can only come from those who were there.
But I didn’t get to experience that
because
I wasn’t at the stable, Lord.
