So what’s the point if I
celebrate the coming of the Christ, then pack up Christmas and tuck Him away
with all the decorations, securely in the closet for another year.
Christmas was supposed to
remind me that something is to be different in all my dealings because of His
coming. Christmas is supposed to
remind me that miracles are normal when He is here, Christmas is supposed to fill me with hope that I am not
alone, not without Shepherd direction nor Wise Man insight. Christmas isn’t just the
end-of-the-year “I made it!” doorway that just segues me toward a New Year and
starting my self-inflicted rat race again. Christmas wasn’t meant to be one day of celebration, but the
reminder that every day now holds me in His presence. The small undemanding baby I was willing to embrace has
grown up and wants me to live in His victory over sin and death.
Don’t pack Him up with
the Christmas ornaments. Let Him
be the gift of promise we wear every day, the gift we drink from for either
energy or calm, the one thing we’d like all the world to know we were
given. He was a gift that wasn’t
meant to be exchanged, put in a drawer, or given to the local thrift store
because we were too embarrassed to let anyone know we had received God for
Christmas.
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