By Ashlie Miller

Do you have a unique, odd or profoundly personal family tradition? It seems strange to consider family traditions when resting in the heat of summer, taking a break from the usual routine. Or you may be smack in the middle of an annual summer vacation tradition. In either case, you may have noticed the resurgence of a winter holiday in the hottest part of our year — Christmas in July.

What is with that? Is it a made-up moment for the Hallmark Keepsake collector awaiting the release of an ornament in July? Has Hobby Lobby conspired in July to bombard the market with swags of artificial pine, glistening decorations, or the too-early scent of cinnamon emanating from candles? Is it a new marketing ploy to get money from your pocketbook in a summer sales slump? 

I want to offer another possibility. Five summers ago, I recognized we were in the midst of what my husband called a “fertilizer year.” You may have a less-than-polite term for that type of year. Due to personal trials in and outside the family dynamic and a recent terminal physical diagnosis of a loved one, we all felt a bit hopeless. It is easy for cynicism to creep in during those seasons. Usually, gratitude would be the antidote for such sadness. Still, at that moment, it was difficult to “give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). I realized we needed a balm to heal our despair. For that season, our cynicism required an encounter with wonder. We needed medicine for our spirit (“A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones” — Proverbs 17:22). Where would we find that in the middle of July?

Operation: Christmas in July began that year. I did not intend for it to become a tradition. We backed into it. We did summer versions of winter fun — a melted snowman cookie instead of a gingerbread house; swimming instead of ice skating; ice cream cones instead of snow cream; watching Christmas movies; even drawing names to shop at the thrift store for a surprise gift. What memories we made that year! We still had much to face. The year was not over, and more heartaches lay ahead, but we momentarily took the sting out of a painful season.

But why? Why did eating, playing, and watching television — things we would likely do in some form anyway — fill us with hope and wonder? It was more than a mere distraction. It is because the wonder and anticipation point to something even more extraordinary. It is akin to the Advent season of winter — the waiting for the Promise. It is a shadow cast by another promise that awaits the Christian believer. 

Even those not of the Christian faith have a sense of this built into their hearts and minds — a desire for hope. A longing for something to right the wrongs, to bring closure to struggle, or to give us a reason for continuing. 

How fitting that Christmas in July came for us at the midpoint of a brutal year. How fitting that during a severe heatwave covered in smothering haze, we can stop briefly to remind ourselves that this is not the end; something lovely is ahead. We are closer to it than we were a month ago. In our struggles, we can come up for air, look at the temporary reality of our situation, and realize we will make it through somehow. There is more ahead than our present earthly, temporary reality. Now that is worth celebrating!

Ashlie Miller accidentally begins many traditions in her family of seven in Concord. She can be contacted at ashliemiller.com.