This Article was written by Aaron Orr, Watchtan’s part-time contributer.
Christmas day kind of came and went here in Iraq. At least for me.
I did get the day off, which was really nice, though it just wasn’t really Christmas.
Every Christmas for as long as I can recall, with the exception of the one I spent in Kuwait (2001) and this one, I have gone to church, or been involved in the Candlelight Service at JBU.
There was no window shopping in New York City like I remember doing with my family nearly every year growing up. There were no get-togethers with friends, no carollers, no snow nor the silence that comes with it.
Maybe that’s why it didn’t feel like Christmas. I sat in a tent and watched water seep under the sides from the 24 hours of rain we were in the midst of. I didn’t sit on a couch in my parents’ warm, cozy living room and watch “A Christmas Story,” or “It’s a Wonderful Life,” or any of the myriad classics that help make it feel like Christmas.
I took no time to reflect on the meaning of Christmas. Even though this is the closest I’ve ever been to where Christ was born, I allowed myself to be distracted by noise, external and internal.
My tentmate and I did eat a decent meal with six of our comrades, and there were some gifts exchanged. It just didn’t feel the same.
I long to draw some sort of earth-shaking meaning from all this, to have some sort of eureka moment. I don’t think it is meant to be, though. But I do believe this is a good starting point for some serious introspection on how I’ve been choosing to live (situationally regardless).