The other day at the grocery store, I overheard someone say, “Merry Christmas!” Wow! I liked the sound of that! Over the years, due to more online shopping and some cultural aversion to the supposed offensive nature of those two words, is it just me, or is “it beginning to feel a lot less like Christmas, everywhere you go!”? Somehow, “Happy Holidays” doesn’t quite capture what Christmas is all about, even if Andy Williams is singing it over the stores’ overhead stereo systems. I don’t know if you are like me, I love Santa and all that stuff, but I miss seeing the nativity scenes that were so front and center in my youth. Some people can be offended by such displays, but take Christ out of Christmas, and you just have “mass!” Which is defined as “a large body of people gathered together” or “a large body of matter with no definite shape.” Without Christ in Christmas, I think it’s both—a large body of people with no definite shape or purpose.

I’m going to set a goal this year of saying “Merry Christmas” as often as I can. Because, amidst the hustle and bustle of this annual celebration, I want others to know, and I need to keep in the forefront of my mind why I am giving gifts and receiving gifts and why, “it’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

He was born, was crucified, and rose from the dead. And through Him, and by Him, I will rise again. And at my advanced age, it’s becoming increasingly clear that I have no hope without Him. He is the Savior of the world, even Jesus Christ. Merry Christmas!

TheDiscipleMD

In a day and age when overindulgence seems to permeate our Christmas season, I was again inspired by a story told long ago by Marlin K. Jensen about his great-grandfather. Perhaps because I had occasion to meet and interact with Marlin Jensen that the story is more personal to me.  He related this story.

“…as a young boy, my great-grandfather arose one Christmas morning with great anticipation and came down from the loft where he slept to inspect the stocking he had hung by the fireplace the previous night. To his dismay he found what was to constitute his entire Christmas that year—one piece of horehound candy! He was immediately faced with a weighty decision: Should he eat the candy in one glorious burst of flavor, or should he make it last? The scarcity of such delicacies apparently convinced him to make it last. He carefully licked the solitary piece of candy a few times and then wrapped it in tissue paper and hid it under his mattress. Each Sunday thereafter, following dinner, he retreated to his bed, retrieved his treasure, and enjoyed a few pleasurable licks. In that way he nursed the piece of candy through an entire year’s enjoyment.
This is obviously not an account of deeds of heroic proportions. And yet, in these times of overindulgence and excess, it is somehow very inspiring and strengthening to me…” (“The Power of a Good life”, Jensen Marlin, April, GC, 1994)
I once recall my mother saying, “I can’t buy my grandchildren anything; they have it all!”  I’ve now reached her age and I can’t help but think the same thing about my grandchildren. May we enjoy this wonderful season by not getting too caught up in the material things that the world tells us will bring happiness. A ‘Horehound Candy Christmas’ can last a lifetime if we are careful to savor the joy that comes when we catch the true spirit of the season.

TheDiscipleMd

As I waited with my seven siblings on the steps of the unfinished basement I could hardly contain my anticipation. I was an eight year old boy, the seventh of eight children born to my parents. My eyes fixed on the doorknob waiting…waiting…waiting for it to turn and open up to the feast of presents that was certain to be there on the other side. It was early Christmas morning of 1964 and what personally awaited me was a lesson I learned that has stayed with me to this day.

The knob finally turned as my angelic Mother opened the door to heaven. We scrambled up the stairs racing for the tree situated at the end of the hardwood living room floor. It really was heaven! The room seemed to light up (in reality my Dad was filming with a set of blinding lights that were so typical of the sixties). As the other kids grabbed their stockings, I went straight to the tree looking for the shape of the prized present I so coveted! I was sure my parents would have placed it in a prominent place under the tree. Yet I couldn’t find it. My young heart skipped a beat as I didn’t see it. Perhaps I had just missed it I thought!

As was customary in my house, my Mom passed out the presents one by one till the giving tree was done! I stared at my gifts. There was plenty there, but I couldn’t imagine the coveted gift of my heart could be in one. I wanted to believe, but nothing seemed to match the size of the gift I knew would lift my entertainment life to new heights.

Beginning at the eldest, we began opening the presents, one by one. As I took my turn it became apparent that I was not going to get what I wanted. I didn’t want to cry and be a baby, but the lump developing in my throat was getting bigger by the moment! As the last of the gifts were opened I couldn’t help myself as I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Just then my Mother made a statement, “Well,” she said, “I think there is one more gift that Santa left in the backroom.” As I turned I saw my father walking down the hall towards us and in his arms was the present I so coveted. I couldn’t hold my tears back because I was so relieved they had bought me what I wanted. It was an electric moment; one I have never forgotten.

But with plastic players that never went were you wanted them to go, to the ‘electric vibrational’ nature of the board, the magic of that game lasted about a week for me. The ‘Electric Football Game’ never lived up to the ‘hype.’ Like most of ‘die to have’ presents, my game ended up at the bottom of my closet gathering dust a short time later. A lesson I have learned so often over the years is that most material things end up on the heap of the throw out memories of our lives.

However, it has been close to sixty years and I can still see my father walking down the hall towards me with that Electric Football game in arms. I remember the look on his face and the delight in my Mom’s voice when she joyously announced there was ‘one more’ gift. My Mom hugged me as my Dad handed me the game. I felt loved! The real gift of ‘love and caring’ given to me by my parents that year is still electrifying my soul and blessing my life. That’s a feeling that has never fallen short of scoring a ‘touchdown’ in the end zone of my heart!

TheDiscipleMD

They come out in hordes during the month of December. They are found in almost all the homes in America. And while the “big man in red,” Santa Claus, gets all the praise and recognition this coming week, we all know it is all the “ladies in Christmas red” who really deserve the credit for making the 25th, the most wonderful day of the year. That certainly was the case in my home, not only as a child, but also as a grown adult. Some credit of course goes to those who hang the lights and haul in the tree, but even those chores would probably never happen without the influence of ‘the ladies in red.’ In fact, without their influence, I’m not sure anything would happen on the day of the Savior’s birth.

The Grinch missed the boat when he tried to stop Christmas. He found that even though he had stolen the presents, tinsel, and Christmas turkey; Christmas still came. What he should have done was kidnap “the ladies in Christmas red,” and he would have had a much better chance of stopping the spirit of Christmas from arriving.

Every home in America has a ‘lady in Christmas red’ watching over the spirit of the holiday season. She is called a Mother, a wife, a woman.

I dedicated a song in 1987 to my wife entitled, “Lady in Red.” It is a love song I dedicated to her while wearing a rather “bewitching” red dress that year. And while I cherish that memory, what I cherish more is watching as each December she puts on her “Christmas” red dress while making cherished memories for all those she loves. My children and I will be forever indebted.

And when I get together and share memories with my siblings of Christmas’ past; our hearts are touched, bonds are strenghten and love is fostered. And at the center of those shared feelings is always the image of our mother under the tree with a smile handing out presents. She is not a ‘lady in red’ to us. No, she is our personal angel of light whose warmth, care, and love continue to bless our lives in countless ways.

So to all the ‘ladies in Christmas red,’ wherever you may be. You may feel like all your efforts go unrecognized; but they aren’t. Without you the ‘Grinch’ might win. And I wouldn’t blame you for sometimes wanting to ride off in his sleigh in hysteria. But please don’t! Your work is invaluable in building traditions that bind families together for a lifetime.