Christmas has such a different feel for me now that I am twenty six. I know that the real reason for the season is the birth of our savior. Jesus Christ came to bring completion to a work that was started even before there was a beginning. I am eternally grateful for the sacrifice that God made when Jesus was born, only to be out done by the sacrifice Jesus made when he died. The truth is that with out the birth of our savior, there is no reason for Santa’s existence.
I like to think of Christmas as two separate holidays. One is the glorious celebration of the Messiah’s birth. And the other is a family holiday of glad tidings and joy, albeit overly commercialized, that focuses on giving gifts of love and goodwill to all men regardless of station or rank.
When thinking about the second holiday that I have enjoyed since I got my Tonka dump truck at age 5, I am saddened to think of the difference in a five-year-old Christmas and a twenty-six-year-old Christmas. I was still able to get the gift that I wanted. But it wasn’t the same because the 12-gauge shotgun that I got was something that I could have gotten by myself if I had wanted. At five years old I was unable to go and get my coveted Tonka truck on my own. There was so much anticipation and surprise with the Tonka truck. But with the shotgun, I had already resigned myself to: “If I don’t get the shotgun, I would just save enough money and then buy it at a later date.”
I suppose this is a great reflection of the real Christmas holiday. The gift of Jesus Christ is so wonderful, so profound that it has to be given and not earned. We can never earn or possess on our own the salvation of Jesus Christ. He has to be given. He has to be accepted with the knowledge there is nothing we can do or say that will influence the love that God gives us. He loves us fully as adopted and chosen children.
The hope is that everyone clings to and accepts that gift of salvation with the same fervor and intensity that a five-year-old boy embraces his first bright yellow Tonka truck.
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