The fourth advent candle is lit and in we’re in the last straight away before Christmas. We’re trying hard not to be too exhausted from the weeks of putting way too many red hots on sugar cookies and forgetting that last cup of flour in the ginger snaps to make it through the finish line.
Our Advent mittens have been a helpful visual for me to see how much time I have left to order things from Amazon and ship packages. Now that there are only three mittens hanging, I suspect today would be a good day to stop by the post office. We’ll see. The girls just got fully into the swing of homemade Christmas gifts this morning when they pulled out the glitter and yarn. And of course it would be easy to firmly announce that no one will be mixing glitter it the puddle of Elmer’s glue on the paper, we have plenty going on without that! But that sort of attitude kind of kills the joy in giving. And that’s the last thing I want to be doing right now.
Right now, we’re learning the important lessons about giving and getting, about being needy and greedy. And it’s all too easy to be shortsighted about this.
Sometimes we’re so worried that our kids will miss that fact that it’s better to give than receive that we forget it’s actually true. We think we are the ones that have to fabricate this experience, make sure they’re not having too much fun opening gifts, making sure they’re adequately grateful. We’re all serious about who’s said “thank you” that we don’t notice we’re making neither enjoyable. But if it’s true, if it really is better to give than get, we don’t have to create the experience. We certainly don’t have to downplay the joys of getting. But we want to make sure we aren’t out to spoil all the joy they have in giving when someone runs up yelling, “The glitter spilled all over the carpet!”
We need to put out the little greed fires wherever we see them, and we should be looking in our own hearts for greed that isn’t getting snuffed out first.
How enjoyable do we really find giving? When it’s costly. When it’s way past bed time and someone’s all hyped up on candy canes and they need so much from us? Are they learning that mom thinks it’s way better than getting time alone with a good book and a cup of hot coffee than to pull nightgowns over their heads? Do we tell them in so many ways through out the season that we’d rather get a clean kitchen than give a batch of fudge?
Because they’re watching. They’re learning what we really think about all this. They’re noticing if it really makes a difference that God has come to rescue us. They’re noticing if the joy he brings is so fickle it can be lost over coats that never got hung up. They’re noticing if it’s really true that we could do nothing, that we were lost in darkness not even looking for an escape. They’re noticing if it’s true that news of a Savior makes us want to celebrate. If we can’t contain the joy so it spills out in making stockings and cookie platters and songs. If we wrap gifts and make brunch knowing how much our celebration falls short of this good news of great joy.
Out God hasn’t come rationing out scoops of mashed potatoes on cafeteria trays making sure everyone gets just enough to be full. He has come that we might feast. He goes out to the forsaken roads and invited the poor, the blind, the crippled, and the lame. And that is us. And so we stuff stockings and celebrate.