
Grandmother’s Fruitcake and Scratchy Christmas Sweaters
Please enjoy this Christmas Eve offering: a parable to help us
prepare room in our hearts for Christ. I send a monthly offering via email. If you would like to receive the message, send me your email.
A tangy citrus odor tickled my nose as my brother’s thick nails dug into the calloused skin of the enormous, speckled Texas grapefruit. Piles of nuts and fruit of different sizes and colors engorged the stockings, looking like stuffed turkeys. Glossy apples, round, bright-skinned oranges, and bananas peeked out the top and filled the toe and heel of the big socks.
We three children decked out in ugly Christmas sweaters, sweated and grimaced. Mother would soon record a video to show Grandma how thankful we were for her handiwork. But truthfully, no one was appreciative. Our lower lips protruded like hound dogs, and Mother crammed us into a festive position full of false smiles. We held out Grandma’s other offering: a drunken fruitcake—another of no one’s favorites.
“I want to record you all saying thank you to Grandma.” Mother said.
We recited the required words: “Thanks, Grandma.” But they were lifeless—our affectation incited Mother’s wrath. “Let’s try that again.” Clearly, she wasn’t a student of gentle parenting, for I saw her reaching for the switch. “One more time, please.” Brightly, we coerced our voices into “Thanks, Grandma!”
“That’s better.” The switch found its place on the coffee table behind her. We exhaled a breath. My brother began digging his hands around the sweater’s neck.
“Mom, this sweater is itchy.”
Mother said, “No complaining today.” She harrumphed. “Y’all children don’t realize how blessed you are to have something nice.” Daddy just grunted.
We all doubted whether the appropriate adjective for these ugly sweaters should be nice or lovely, but we knew to keep our mouths shut.
I had no intention of wearing mine outside the house lest I get clobbered for trying to be ‘white.’ Oh well. My sister kept lifting her armpit to smell it. Yuck. Then, she took a piece of the fruitcake and rubbed it in the spot.
Oh, yes, that should do it.
God loves to redeem the ugly!
Sometimes, the Christmas season (or any season for that matter) can feel like an ugly sweater: ill-fitting, too loud, and itchy. It’s the end of the year, after all. We’re plum worn out. Who has the energy, physically or emotionally, to run about? Are your children ingrates? Are the other shoppers inconsiderate and rude? Why even bother? It can become easy to lose sight of what Christmas is truly about.
No, the world isn’t the way God intended it to be. It can be too loud and challenging to find our place. It often seems ugly. Yet, God drew near to hear our hearts, listen to our cries, and understand our burdens. He considered our need for a savior and gave us his son. God took time to get to know us. When we think about the time and care God took to stitch and comfort us through the presence of Holy Spirit, may we genuinely find heartfelt thanks coming from our lips.
Sometimes, you wear the weight of the world around you like an ill-fitting, bulky Christmas sweater. But I love the scripture in Isaiah, where God promises to place the government on Jesus’s shoulders (Isaiah 9:6). When you think the world’s weight is on you, remember who’s holding the whole world in his hands. God sent Jesus into the world because he cares.
For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Isaiah 9:6 NLT
A Christmas sweater isn’t about looks.
It’s to keep you warm against
the world’s stinging gales.
Knowing it’s stitched with love
makes most of the difference,
Causes you to brave the storm.
You rub its nubby sleeves.
Suddenly, aware of what a true
gift this worn armor is.
Frumpy? Ugly?
But somehow, a perfect refuge
from the world’s onslaught.
A two-sleeved hug
that reminds you
that you’re loved.
He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
Isaiah 53:2
In Him,
Mella