After some sad experiences over the year, the Savior's message of hope and peace has found profound meaning for me this season. And yet, rather than revel in the comfort, I compulsively brainstorm gift ideas on scratch paper and mentally curse stores when I spy obviously inflated prices. And I reluctantly join the hordes of people at Wal Mart scowling at each other over the last box of Peppermint Oreos and precariously balancing awkward rolls of wrapping paper on the way to the car (because I am NOT making more than one trip in this weather, thank you very much). Christmas is a holiday at once spiritual and secular, hopeful and hectic, cheering and chaotic. And alliterative.
So who wins, baby Jesus or Santa? As a child, I liked baby Jesus and all but the magic happened Christmas morning when I woke up at 4 AM and peeked in my stocking. Presents are a little more immediate than, you know, salvation.
In our house, Isaac, who counts down to Christmas starting in about June, has banned all Santa decorations, at least for now. Instead we have a nativity for almost every year of our marriage.
|If you look closely, you will notice there is no baby Jesus in the middle one. |
It came that way.
Maybe he got to feeling self-conscious that day.
However, our household Santa ban did not prevent us from going to see the most decked-out Santa house I have ever beheld.
And yet, next to the Santa display was this:
Maybe they can both win.
On a somewhat unrelated note, we lost our original star and bought a new one online this year. Isaac made me wait until he got home to put it on the tree. Aaaaannnnd this:
Note to self: increase tree-topper budget for next year.
Merry Christmas all.