There aren’t many feelings that compare to what I felt as a kid on Christmas.
I would wait up all night for Santa Claus. Sleep was elusive, with adrenaline keeping me up through every noise I could interpret as heralding the jolly gift-giver.
In the wee hours of morning, around 5’o clock, my brother and I would wake up and talk through the walls to each other about our anticipation. The gifts, we knew, must already be around the tree. Ever so gullible, we bought the story that our parents needed a solid hour to prepare the camera for taking pictures – as they set out the extra gifts, we bided our time until the final okay was given.
In one of my mother’s photo albums, there exists a picture of me running down the hallway in my pajamas, hot on my brother's (who had a room closer to the Christmas tree) trail. That feeling – that Christmas morning feeling with which there is no comparison – was written on our faces. It was the day when our wishes – our small, childish, yet wonderful wishes for toys – would come true.
It’s been years since I’ve felt that feeling with Christmas, and I’ve misused much of that time in trying to get it back.
There was nothing wrong with that feeling. It was a wonderful atmosphere my parents created, one of love and care, one that they used to try and show how much we mattered to them. For one day of the year, in those hours early in the morning, everything would go the way I wanted. My wish list had been received and granted; I had the power to get what I asked for.
It’s only natural to search for that feeling again, and search I did – but I don’t anymore, at least not in the same way.
As I grew up, wishes got bigger. The things I wanted, like friendships, relationships, happiness, and so on, could no longer be wrapped and placed under the tree. “Santa” could no longer cross the items off the list.
Christmas had been about satisfaction, and once upon a time satisfaction was easier.
I’m not worried about the fact that I don’t have that feeling anymore, though, and there are two reasons why. One is that I am confident I will have that same feeling when I get the chance to give gifts to my own children one day, God willing. The other is that God already gifted me an answer to my adult Christmas list.
God knows what we need. He knows us better than we know ourselves. That doesn’t mean that life will be easy, but it does mean it will go the way we need it to go in order for our eternity to be the best it can be, assuming that we give Him our lives.
As kids, we ask for things we think will make us happy, but God gives us the things He knows will make us joyful – if not now, at least in the end. We may not get the answers we’re looking for under the tree, but God knows what He’s doing. We should put it in His hands, be patient, and pray.
God has given us friendship and relationship in Himself, first and foremost. He sent His Son, who we celebrate on Christmas, to die so that we could directly communicate with Him now and spend eternity with Him later. There’s no greater love than that, and no greater freedom than in knowing that we are accepted in Him no matter what our past looks like.
The biggest gifts I crave now – the friendship, happiness, all of it – Jesus already delivered.
This Christmas, I’ll be working towards having joy in knowing God is working all things together for my good (Romans 8:28). There will be presents under the tree, but nothing can compare to what God has in store.