The Christmas Letter

by Brad Beals

It doesn't get any easier.

You'd think after writing 7 or 8 years worth of Christmas letters, I would find that the right words just fall into place by now, but they don't. The format hasn't changed much - intro, a paragraph for each kid (adding a paragraph every couple years isn't hard), one for Heidi, one for me, and a closing that ties it all together with a message about the real meaning of Christmas. But form is easy. It's the moving parts within the form that make this letter, and any writing within a defined structure, so difficult, so much like work.

Yes, that's what it is. It's work.

But why doesn't writing get easier? Mowing the lawn is easier than it was 30 years ago. Teaching high school (stupid, federal-level interloping aside) gets easier. Changing diapers has a real short learning curve; it's only the first thousand or so that are difficult. So why is writing different? I have a thought on this.

Writing has an almost infinite potential complexity, and we're always standing at what seems to us at the time to be the threshold of our own limits. When we write thoughtfully, we're operating at a kind of peak proficiency, putting into the work all we're capable of. But then we live longer, read more and better, see the world differently, learn, and find that as we return to the task of writing, our standards have become just a little stricter, the eyes with which we self-edit a little more unforgiving. So writing never becomes easier for us. But we should be thankful for that, because it's a kind of toil that we will never become inured to. If you're a writer, then your work is never boring.

I'm actually home right now while a sub is doing my work at school. Heidi's got the boys on a field trip to Crossroads Village, and Elizabeth has some nasty intestinal bug. So I'm doing a different kind of work today, but it's good work. I'm writing the Christmas letter. There. Even in the few minutes it took me to post this much, I feel better about this task. It's work, and I'll do it as unto the Lord, and I'll feel good about doing it once it's done.

And as I think about the fact that it won't be any easier to do next year, I'll just be thankful that I'm not bored.