You better watch out, you better not cry.....he's making a list and checking it twice.... he knows who's naughty and nice....Santa Claus is coming to town!
Growing up in the hills of West Virginia, Christmas was a magical time for me. Most years there was no need to dream of a white Christmas because our little town was blanketed with pure snow. I remember the joy of walking out in the snow and watching the big flakes fall from the sky. Night time was gorgeous as the streetlights put a glow around the cascading snowflakes that added to the winter wonderland effect.
Santa was such a central part of my growing up. Cookies and milk were always set out for him on the living room table close to the fireplace. My folks had very few gifts under the tree on Christmas eve and then on Christmas morning, all the gifts appeared like someone had delivered them overnight. My Christmas Eves were so filled with anticipation that sleep was disturbed several times during the night. I wasn't sure what a sugarplum was, but I was pretty sure that they were dancing in my head and keeping me awake.
We had a great sled riding hill within walking distance of our house and all the neighborhood kids would gather at the hill for great hours of fun. I was not king of the hill, but I got such a kick out of flying down that hill with snow flying in my face. But it was on this hill of excitement, that I got the news that stabbed deep into my heart. As we were sharing about the excitement of Christmas morning, one of the older boys laughed at me and declared the nonexistence of Santa. I wanted to punch him in the worst way, but his size and age was quite a deterrent. Instead I took my sled and ran home. I went inside to see my dad. I don't remember if I asked my mom first or not, but I remember talking with my dad. When I asked him the question of whether there was a Santa or not, I remember the sadness that came upon his face. He gave me the very grown-up explanation that the spirit of Santa is giving and that as we give gifts to one another it is all done in the same way that Santa would give if he were real. I hated to hear the truth and his explanation sure didn't satisfy my desire to believe.
It was over a decade later that I realized that Christmas Eve needed to be approached with great anticipation. That the restless night should again become part of my thinking. That the Coming was still going to be a reality. The cookies could be placed beside the fireplace to enjoy in the morning, because Santa was NOT coming, but I was going to celebrate the coming of Jesus into the world. The greatest gift - God Himself, Emmanuel, was sent to us to provide a way of reconciliation and peace and redemption. Under the tree were nice gifts of earthly value that expressed the love we have for one another; but on the tree Jesus died that God might give us eternal gifts of heavenly value. Santa came with excitement and packages with my name on them. Jesus came with illumination and salvation because he knows me by name.
I still love to walk in the snow (but I hate to drive in it). It has been a while since I went sled riding, but even as an adult, flying down the hill brought a thrill to my heart. I thoroughly enjoy watching my kids and grandchildren open up their presents. And when I was 20 years old, I made such an incredible transfer of Christmas excitement from the pretend mission of Santa to the reality of Christ's plan - from the make-believe gift-giver to the wonderful Giver of peace and grace; from Santa to salvation; from Frosty the Snowman to Jesus, God's only Son; from Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer to the reality of the manager. A Christmas celebration based on Jolly Old Saint Nick excited my heart and mind as a boy, but a Christmas based on the reality of the Incarnation satisfies my soul everyday.
Santa picture found at http://triangulations.wordpress.com/2010/11/24/fighting-dragons-santa/
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