It’s the day after Christmas. All the packages exploded yesterday. The mess was massive. My inner critic doubted that it was sufficient. Did they like the contents of the packages? Was it a complete disappointment? Will the stuff be thrown away or given away or sold in the next clean out?
It is the same story every year. The stress leading up to the big reveal attempts to steal the joy of the season. The watching and waiting for reactions from recipients rip my heart when I spy disappointment on their faces. I want them to be exuberant over even the smallest gift from me only because of the Greatest Gift Ever. Because the smallest gift I give is only a pathetic miniscule imitation. I am unable to give them what I want to give them. I can only point them to it. They must receive it to get it.
And each year I say I won’t do it again but here we are. The day after and the financial resources spent feel empty and meaningless compared to the love I have for those that opened packages while sitting in my house. The gifts didn’t meet expectations.
So how can I convey the message of the season without breaking the bank? I can’t buy Jesus into their minds and hearts. It doesn’t work.
This morning and every morning, I pray. I pray for them to know Him. They do. But I pray that they know and love Him to the point that paper packages and unfulfilled gifts are undesired. That the overwhelming amount of trash removed from my house yesterday is only a small indication of the trash removed from hearts and minds because of The Reason For The Season.
I pray they have unending joy. I pray their hearts and minds swell with the incomprehensible love that Jesus gives to them. I pray they have unspeakable peace. I pray they are never disappointed in the One who is incapable of disappointing.
Today I am rethinking next year. I do it every year. Maybe next year will look a lot different.
