A note from last December for future years–

Christmas is about presence

“God with us”

Emmanuel

So may I give you a story for Christmas? Or your favorite breakfast or a song. Or something else that doesn’t fit so well under a tree? An old memory or a new one. If I can’t be there, may I package one up and send one? Buying comes cheap these days, so may I give from a place where money’s unsought?

They say the wise men brought gifts, and they did, but they gave things no one else could bring. Years of study and watching and anticipation. They devoted themselves to the signs of the sky, and when the time was right, they followed a star to find their new king. The gold was a mere adornment to giving their homage, their everything.

Mary gave her body, her life, and with Joseph, reputation. Shepherd boys brought wonder for the Lamb born in Bethlehem.

There was One, though, who came to buy.

The newborn servant warrior-king. Born to purchase what no one else could with perfect obedience and His very own blood.

I can’t give you that. But I can give you a story or a song. Scrawled out with the hands He fashioned me. Sallying forth on the breath He pours into me. Every fraction of an inhale counted out to me from His wisdom. Every morning bright and yawning eve. And when He asks me how I spend my Decembers I don’t want to say “Christmas shopping”—frantically searching for just the right thing for people I don’t know as well as I should. I want to say—being there. With You. And with Yours. With the lost and the broken and the rich and the weary. With the hopeful ones, the joyful ones, the faithful ones. And sometimes we spend money, but always we spent time. And I didn’t let shopping mall fluorescence dim my little light’s shine.

It’s made me tremor a few times this year thinking about how much the marketplace gets out of Christmas; how much our rejoicing in the Lord’s birth is tied to what money can buy. Is that a contradiction? Double-mindedness? A sneaky way of serving the wrong master? Has the world bought Christmas? Or am I buying into a lackluster spirit?–A critical, gripey, miserly way of seeing. Am I listening to an ascetic, Pharisaical voice saying, “Thou shalt not buy Christmas presents.” Or am I staying out of crowded parking lots enough to hear a still small song of peace and rest?

It’s not that I think grinchily about gifts. I love giving gifts. Getting them, too. But I’m not sure going out and buying stuff for each other is the most appropriate way to celebrate Christ’s coming. “Yay, the Messiah is born! Let’s go buy stuff for each other so we can be more happy!” I’m not saying I know how we should celebrate. I’m just proposing a little less wrapping paper.

Groceries, car parts, books, light bulbs, ballpoint pens, and thrift store menagerie. I spend enough time shopping the whole year round. Heaven knows I don’t spend enough time on the deep things. Too much time ordering on Amazon, not enough time ordering my home and relationships. Too much seeking that $2, $20, $200 solution to my problem; not enough time seeking Him. Too much time cluttering, not enough time creating. I think it’s about time I abandon the shopping cart for my sewing machine, garden, notebook, and guitar. I’m aching this Christmas; I just want to give you my heart. Let me pour it into a pie or a letter. I know it’s not store bought, but could it be better?

A little less package, a little more present.

So may I give you a bonfire or some old photos I found? Maybe package up an inside joke or pass the cider round? ‘Cause when your closet’s overfull and dessert is every day, I’d rather not give you more. I’d rather give you different. Not Hallmark. Not Target. Not an autographed card XOXO with no “Hey, how are you? How did the move go? How’s the new job?”

Maybe I’m a dreamer, but I’d rather give you me.

And given first to Him.