The Christmas season began for me about a month ago. Due to an unscheduled garage-door problem, Bob left me at Pier One to finish up some shopping and I ended up doing a lot of walking. First, I meandered my way to Old Navy, then decided to brave the 1/2 mile walk to Michael’s. So, there I was, bags in hand, treking my way down Renaissance Parkway. I grumbled, “Everything’s so expensive. Why didn’t I start this earlier? How am I ever going to get this all mailed? These bags are heavy. Why didn’t the garage door guy come when he said he would? Why are you such a big baby?”
“Bah Humbug” perched precariously on the edge of my lips….
Uninvited, a tune began to wind itself along my chilled earlobes. “All this for a King. All this for our King.” (I love David Crowder Band!) The Spirit’s song gave me focus. “That’s right! It’s all about the King.” The December sun warmed my sour face. The Carolina blue sky brought delight to my clouded eyes. All this, the shopping and baking, the cleaning and decorating, the wrapping and mailing, is for our King. As I walked along, no longer burdened by my task, I possessed a new sense of resolve and wonder that has carried me through the past few weeks.
December 23rd, just hours after returning home from a lovely, relaxing vacation, Bob worked to acquire my Christmas present. He ran into a glitch – it won’t arrive until next week. In the midst I found myself sucked into the clouded vortex called “the holidays.” I forgot who Christmas is really about. I hated the selfishness pulling at my insides but couldn’t seem to knock the nauseous feeling of want. The King slipped into the backdrop while wrapped gifts with “Cas” scribbled boldly across the top lured me to the edge of a candy-cane cliff.
Then, I watched the Grinch almost steal Christmas. “He grabbed all the boxes and trimmings and stuff, and robbed all of Whoville. It was really quite rough!”
When his dastardly deed was done, he heard all of Whoville celebrating despite his crime. He exclaimed, in a moment of green Grinch clarity, that Christmas isn’t about the presents at all. His heart started beating and a new celebration began.
That’s right! Christmas isn’t about the presents at all. But it is about a gift. A pure, unstained, perfect gift with all of our names written boldly across the top, arriving at the perfect time. The gift of a Savior, the King. My heart started beating again.
As I dust the living room and knead orange roll dough for tomorrow’s breakfast, paint my nails and dress for church, unwrap sweet gifts from far-away friends and family, I’ll lift each one to Jesus in celebration. All this for my King!
Have you received His gift?
the grinch is an all time favourite of mine. great post!