My spouse deployed to Iraq for the first time not long after our wedding. That was during the days of 12-month deployments, so when our first anniversary rolled around, he was still gone. 

I didn’t want to spend our very first anniversary wallowing in sadness, so I mailed him some of his favorite foods to celebrate overseas, and I invited a few friends out for dessert to celebrate back home.  

For our third anniversary he was deployed again, but this time, we had an infant. That’s when we began celebrating our anniversary as “Family Birthdays,” a tradition we carry to this day. We know that we might not always be together (those two anniversaries were not the only ones we were geographically separated), but we’ll still find ways to celebrate, wherever we are. And it isn’t just about the two of us - it’s about celebrating the expansive love that was born on that spring day in 2005. 

In other words, our traditions are flexible.

That might seem like an oxymoron, but it has allowed us to celebrate in ways that feel familiar, even when the circumstances of each year change. Try though we might, our life situations don’t stay the same year to year, and pretending that they will can lead to grief and resentment when we just can’t control who and where and when and what holidays offer. Flexible traditions allow us to stay both centered and resilient, as we can be connected to the past while embracing whatever the present holds.

I was raised with some very firm holiday traditions, and I cherish those memories deep in my core; they’ve given me an appreciation for ritual and staying grounded in what matters most. But living all over the country; moving frequently; and with different cycles of deployment, on-call duty for Jonathan, and work for me, we can’t really rely on being able to always do *specific* traditions. When he was leading Christmas Eve services at the military prison and our kids were toddlers, we often had “Christmas Day” on December 23. When I pastored a congregation with two evening services, we celebrated with friends in the hours between. When we’ve moved over the holidays, we’ve had Christmas without our usual decorations. 

This year, once again we’ll be “doing Christmas” in a way we usually don’t: We’re going back home to Michigan, and I couldn’t be more excited; it’s the first time we’ll be in Michigan around Christmas in a decade. 

And as we we’ve figured out what this would look like, I asked the kids what “feels” like Christmas to them. We’ll do some of our celebrations before we go and some while we’re there, and I wanted to pay attention to the traditions that they’ve internalized as being important. I was surprised to hear that “cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning” was the only thing any of them said! While we could point to many things that we tend to do throughout the season - decorations we usually have out, movies we usually watch, foods that we usually eat, rituals we usually honor, this was the one thing that we’ve always done. And that stands to reason; when they were little, I intentionally chose to keep that tradition from my childhood, because I knew that no matter what house we were in, no matter what date we celebrated, and no matter who we were (or weren’t) with, we’d most likely be able to pop open a can of cinnamon rolls and put them in the oven.

This year, like last year, will be different for most of us. This new variant is impacting plans, especially for families with young kids who can’t be vaccinated. Maybe you’re missing loved ones who have died in the last year, or maybe those church services you were so looking forward to being moderately “normal” again are now back online due to community transmission. Maybe you’ve been recently impacted by storms or disasters, or lack of employment means that this Christmas will feel less abundant. Maybe things have been slowly changing over the last few years, and now, you recognize you can’t keep trying to hold on to what was.

With that in mind, what traditions could you keep, even if some of the circumstances are different? To what new opportunities does this holiday season invite us, given that things are not (and never will be again) “the way they were before”? How can you tweak a tradition you once had… or maybe even throw everything out the window and start fresh?

What traditions could be flexible?

How can you maintain the hope of this season, even when things feel less jolly?

For our part, if you’re wondering, this year the Fishers will be expanding our past tradition, so I’ll be opening those canned cinnamon rolls on December 18… AND December 25. And we’ll give thanks for the traditions that connect us, and the joy that flexibility can bring.