Do you have some perfect Christmas memories?  I do, actually.  One year in particular stands out.  1978.  I know, that’s getting to be a lot of years off now but, part of me, remembers that particular Christmas in Lenoir.  Lenoir was where all of my Dad’s family lived and where my Grandmother’s house was.  She hosted a Bryant family Christmas party every year on Christmas Eve.  We’d drive up from Charlotte the day before just to spend some extra time.  But, from the moment my sister and I got there, it was a countdown.  A countdown to that holiday party where uncles and cousins of all shapes and sizes would arrive, filling the smallish house. 

            There was the holiday punch, a concoction I’ve learned is little more than pineapple juice and ginger ale but it tasted like heaven.  So too were there homemade cookies and cakes and candies spread throughout the house so that you hardly had to move a yard to get something to nibble on no matter where you were in the house.  Best of all, all of us kids occupied a large basement in the house where we played with my aunt’s dog lady intermixed with hide-and-seek.

            Then came the magic hour, 7pm.  At that point, everyone packed into the house’s small living room around a silver Christmas tree (do you remember those things?) where presents were distributed.  One of the things my sister and I both loved about Lenoir Christmases was the emphasis on TOYS.  My Mom’s parent’s, perhaps more practical people, were known to throw in pairs of socks and underwear amongst the toys.  Not in Lenoir though.  The highlight present of that year was a plastic football player that kicked field goals.  I must have played with that thing until we left.

            It was a perfect kids’ Christmas.  Wonderful, sweet and special. 

            There have been years, I confess, where, at the end of the holiday festivities, I’ll think back and compare – was this year as good as 1978?  And while it’s a fun way to think nostalgically, I will say, comparisons in and of themselves aren’t always as helpful as we’d like them to be.

            One of the things I’ve noted is that too frequent comparison thinking is often quick to disrupt the one thing I think I desire most in this world – peace.  It’s interesting to note that, as my years progress, how much more desirous of peace I am.  Years back, nothing thrilled me than a late night out at a bar with a band and tons of people crowded around me.  Now, I think on that stage of my life and I can hardly understand the appeal.  After all, nothing pleases me more than settling into bed to read a book, the kids asleep and a feeling of calm filling the house. 

            But, as I said, comparisons tend to disrupt a lot of peace.  We get to thinking, is this as good as it gets?  Could this be better?  Could I be better, improved somehow?  And while that’s undoubtedly the case, sometimes the thought of it interrupts that deep tranquility of mind and body that we all seek out to soothe our souls from the bumps, bruises and scrapes this broken would foists upon us day after day.

            Take for example this obsessive emphasis we seem to have on attaining perfection. One need only look around at images on television and in magazines to see a world of data on the subject. The images show idealized bodies. To top it all off, when things aren’t quite right, then a quick computer “touch up” makes the unsightly parts of people or stories go away. The cumulative effect leaves us with the impression that the world around us is perfect...and we need to be as well.

             The cosmetic industry reaps huge profits convincing people that physical perfection is but a product purchase away. Within the last few years, we’ve heard tales too numerous to count of talented athletes staking drugs in order to inch their competitive results towards perfection.

             Sadly, it looks as though generations of children have been affected by it all. Young women suffer with more eating disorders than ever before. Steroid usage continues to inch higher and higher among high school athletes. There’s more pressure than ever academically. Parents spend billions of dollars a year pushing their children to be mini-Einsteins. Parental pressure on children to succeed is rampant– and by itself, pressure to be perfect is perceived by children as criticism for mistakes.

            And perhaps it’s not just our children that are feeling the toll of striving for perfection. It’s us too!

            So, how do we get there?  What steps might we take?  Better still, what does the Bible say about peace and how to attain it?