Like the rest of North America, I am an avid podcast listener. I subscribe to quite a few (small plug for the Progressive Dairy Podcast – add us to your lineup!) that vary from dairy-related to comedy, religion, general agriculture and more. Comedy podcasts help my gym sessions go a little faster, and a few weeks ago I heard one of my favourite comics, Dustin Nickerson, say “December is the May of winter.” He explained how December is just as busy as May, but without the outdoor activities. Calendars are filled with church activities, end-of-semester concerts, parties of the familial and work varieties, last-minute gift shopping, baking to the point that flour becomes part of your wardrobe, etc. December is busy.

Matti McBride

Editor / Progressive Dairy

Email Matti McBride

Reflecting on last December, I don’t remember much. I spent the majority of the month going through the motions of the holiday season: baking, driving, shopping, laundry, dishes, gift wrapping. A scroll through my camera roll will show a work trip my husband was able to tag along on and a few family parties. There are a few parts of December I remember, though, that I feel compelled to share.

I was standing in my kitchen, probably attempting to cook. In the spirit of the season, I was listening to Christmas music. I remember feeling stressed (who isn’t in December?) and trying to hurry and accomplish my tasks for the day. Carrie Underwood’s voice drifted across the room, singing Little Drummer Boy. I smiled as I worked, then quickly stopped as I was brought to tears. Overcome with emotion, I stood and listened intently to the lyrics.

I don’t know why it was this song or these lyrics that caused me to stop and reflect on what we really celebrate at Christmas. In the repertoire of Christmas songs, it’s not the most spiritual or profound. However, I believe God speaks to us in quiet moments like this. He gently reminds us what’s important in the simplest of ways.

A few weeks later, Christmas morning came, and my family ran out the door to do chores. Bundled up against the cold and feeling the magic of the day, I was filled with emotion as I forked hay to our heifers. The stars shone bright, and the smells of fresh hay, cattle and cool morning air caused me to pause for a minute. I said a quick prayer of gratitude, humbled to experience a morning similar to one a long time ago in Bethlehem – one with cattle, straw, hay and a swaddled babe.

It’s been said before, but I’ll say it again: The twinkle lights, shiny wrapping paper, elaborate gifts and noise of the holiday season don't matter. We celebrate because our Saviour came to Earth. He was born in the simplest of circumstances to perform the greatest work of all. Through the Little Drummer Boy and morning chores, I was reminded that the Lord doesn’t require the finer things in life; all He asks is for our love.

Merry Christmas to you and yours, from your friends at Progressive Dairy.