Hating Santa

No this isn't a post railing about how Christmas should be about Jesus rather than Santa. Personally, I don't see anything wrong with celebrating both the birth of our Savior (though many theologians and historians believe that Jesus was actually born in the fall of the year rather than the winter) and the visitation of the big guy in the red suit on the same day. I believe it's way more important to celebrate Jesus' birth ... His entrance into the world to become the way of salvation for me and every person who has ever lived or who will ever live ... it's way more important to celebrate the arrival of my Lord every moment of every day with a spirit of gratitude and worship than it is to make a big deal over Jesus vs. Santa on Christmas day. So there ... that's my sermon for the day and my disclaimer that this post isn't about what most of you thought it might be when you read the title.

Yesterday, my daughter-in-law emailed me a photo of C.J.'s first visit to Santa, and I'll attach it to the end of this post so you can see my gorgeous, though quite upset, granddaughter perched upon Santa's knee. C.J. didn't just not like Santa ... she hated the bearded, red-suited Ho! Ho! Ho! man. She is in the stage of her life where she doesn't want to have anything to do with any strangers, and Santa proved to be an over-the-top stranger for my little C.J. I can't say as I blame her really ... having to get all decked out in a frilly dress and brave the cold (and it's beyond cold and snowy in Canada now) and go to the mall is bad enough, but then to be handed off to some big man who looks like a giant chili pepper with whipped cream on top would be pure torture for sure for me if I was a baby.

Before they moved, I gave Becca some pictures of Matt when he was a little guy, and one of those pictures just happened to be of Matt and Santa ... a screaming Matt with Santa actually. Becca scanned the photo and emailed it to me (and yes, I'll attach that photo at the end of the post as well), and the minute I saw it, it caused me to think about how much things can change in a short amount of time. You see, Matt is the one of my three children who LOVED Santa when he was or 3 or 4 years old, to the point of dressing like Santa every single day for like a year or so ... red flannel pajamas, black boots, red stocking cap ... yes, my son who hated Santa in the old picture was the same child who then played Santa to all of his stuffed animals. And my guess is that C.J. will one day love Santa just like her daddy ... yep, I bet she will.

So here's the thing, the great big old lesson for me today in the screaming Santa pictures ... life really is a journey. Life is a journey, and things that frighten us to death at the beginning of that journey may well end up becoming the things we love the most as we travel along. Think about it, friends ... think about it a lot, cause that really is a great big old lesson indeed.