(contrary to popular belief, Xmas is not a secular effort to remove “Christ” from “Christmas” by X-ing out his name; but simply an easier way of writing the word, much like how you would write DNA instead of Deoxyribonucleic acid. From our trusty source, Wikipedia: ‘The “-mas” part is from the Latin-derived Old English word for Mass, while the “X” comes from the Greek letter Chi, which is the first letter of the Greek word Χριστός which comes into English as “Christ”.’ The more you know)
And now, in the most eloquent way, I will condense the obligatory Christmas statements into a single paragraph:
Gifts and meals are great. Family and friends are better. The true meaning of Christmas is Christ, for this is the day we celebrate our savior’s birth. Peace and goodwill to all mankind. Let the yuletide usher in the new winds of the new year.
Now on to what I really need to say:
It is done. The video project that I’ve been working on since August (July, if you count planning). The thing that I passed up on singing for the Christmas services in order to make time for. The process that took, in total number of hours, more time that I spent on both of research papers combined. It all amounted to a 30-minute presentation, sandwiched in between other presentations in a celebration service that lasted about 2 and a half hours.
It is done. It is over.
Perhaps this is a fraction of what Christ felt as he breathed his last upon that old rugged cross. After everything, here is the grand conclusion. It isn’t nearly as spectacular or as flashy as it could possibly be, but I rest satisfied knowing that the video did what it set out to do: to inspire both thanksgiving and excitement in its audience.
(though I nearly cried when I spotted a typo at about the 3-minute mark, where “would” was mistypped as “woulld”)
Arriving home after a relatively quiet lunch at 3P.M., I fell right into the embrace of the lover I’ve neglected over the past two weeks or so: sleep. We laid in bed together for about 4 hours, making up for lost time.
Now after dinner, the rain pours outside; the LED Christmas lights blink away; my parents are watching a Korean soap opera on TV; and I’m waiting to be picked up to join a game of risk somewhere in Subang USJ. There is simply contentment in my heart.
It isn’t nearly as spectacular or as flashy as it could possibly be. Last year, there were a series of parties and festivities – this year, such things were so scarce that I almost didn’t feel Christmas coming. In fact, it feels surreal that we are already here in the final week of the year that was 2013.
But there is contentment here. Happy? Can’t really tell; but the feeling certainly isn’t elation. I am satisfied.
I have done what I had set out to do.