Lessons From the Bottom of a Coffee Cup: Christmastime and the Invitiation to Take Part in Two Stories

Christmas is approaching...fast. We have been getting quite excited around here for Addy's second year to celebrate Christmas with her. I've dreamed about these times since I was young. I have always loved the thought of Christmas with my own kiddos. There's just something simply magical and special about sharing that day with children. I think that as adults we can easily loose sight of the awe and excitement of the celebration. There just isn't anything like that child-like thrill of going to bed Christmas eve and being beyond excited for what the morning would hold. As I grew up, it was the anticipation of gift giving that had me the most excited. I like to receive gifts, especially ones with much thought or even homemade. But I've always been more of a gift-giver than a receiver. I miss the days of staying in "Santa's workshop" (aka: my room) for hours upon hours, up until the late hours of Christmas eve, hand crafting my own Christmas gifts to give to family and friends. I remember singing Christmas carols with my family, as I played the piano in accompaniment. I loved how the Christmas tree lights lit up the faces of my loved ones surrounding the piano and I could see their reflection through the piano. My Dad would roast chestnuts, a special treat only at Christmas. My mom labored over a hot stove and oven, preparing a Lebanese feast every year. The homemade Advent calendar we did everyday as a family. The reading of Luke 2 before opening gifts. The Happy Birthday Jesus cake I would make with mom out of my Easy Bake Oven. And every year comes the tradition of watching Christmas movies over big bowls of mom's yummy popcorn. We maybe had one or two Christmas' where we traveled to see family, but for the most part, the day was spent with the four of us and sometimes our relatives or friends would join us at our home. The day was mostly low-key, reflective and carried a Sabbath sort of feel with it. We were together and the moments were cherished and treasured.

The sounds, the sights, the smells...all of it pointing to the beauty of Christmastime.

Now having Addy, I want her to know the excitement and anticipation of Christmas as fully as possible. Josh and I both want her to know why we celebrate Christmas and the significance of Christ come down, of Advent and The Kingdom that has come and will come once again. Of course there are so many wonderful Christmas traditions we have both grown up with and naturally we want Addy to be a part of some of those as well. But Josh and I are also looking forward to forming some traditions of our own with Addy, of bringing the message and action of Christmas to her and watching her unravel the mystery of Christ come down, of a humble servant who gave himself for us so that we can give ourselves away to others, for his kingdom sake. We want to express to Adelynne the hope of Yahweh who has made all things new.

I personally didn't grow up paying a visit to Santa, sitting on his lap and telling him what I wanted for Christmas. But I did grow up knowing the story of Saint Nick who gave gifts to poor children. I grew up with Dad and Mom pretending to play Santa for Christmas, but I don't ever remember believing that Santa actually existed and would come to our house when we were asleep to surprise us with presents in our stockings and under our tree. But we did have fun playing along with the story of Santa. And my brother and I were told to get to bed on Christmas Eve because "Santa was coming!" We knew that meant mom had to finish getting all of the presents wrapped, put under the tree, the stockings stuffed and the last minute preparations done for Christmas breakfast and dinner. My brother and I would giggle as we got our new jammies on (A Christmas Eve tradition) and plant ourselves in our rooms for the night. I remember not being able to fall asleep but telling myself I needed to because then it would be Christmas!

Before you think I'm against Santa, let me assure you, I'm not! I actually really like the original story of Saint Nicholas, though there tend to be a few variations to the "original." In general, I love the idea of giving gifts and especially giving gifts in secret when no one knows who gave them the gift. I don't even mind the "Santa List." I'll be honest I'm not totally a fan of sitting on Santa's lap, especially for little one's who are always told to not go to strangers. I'll readily admit it, I'm a mom who isn't a fan of my baby crying on a strangers lap. It's just not cute to me (completely personally speaking).

But where I can get on the bandwagon is playing a part in the story of Santa. I love stories! I once read that the purpose of fiction is to take us out of the world we live in so we can better understand our own world. Isn't that fantastic! What a powerful tool the art of story is!

What's more meaningful though than playing a part in a story that is honest to goodness true?

I can play along with the story of Santa, especially since it was probably more than a mere legend of a story. There was a guy who actually originally played the part of the story that has now been woven together into our version of Santa Clause. I can get on board with that. I can even do "Santa" sorts of traditions with Addy because were playing a part of that story; we're re-telling it and putting ourselves in part of that story that has been handed down for generations.

But the reality is (and I'm a fan of reality) that Santa isn't alive and well today as a real person. The real Saint Nick isn't hundreds of years old and still busting down chimney's, sneaking in while the children sleep to fill stockings and make hearts glad.

Okay...there's my Bah Humbug part of this post...

Moving on:

It seems to me that a parents job is partly to share truth and partly to watch their children unravel a particular mystery of a truth. Obviously Jesus himself believed in the power of story to communicate truth to those who listened. And I'm interested in following his example.

Parenting is hard, more hard than I ever realized. I'm finding I'm becoming more selective about things I didn't think I would be selective about from the food we eat to the ways we communicate truth. I'm growing weary of watered down messages for the sake of simplifying a hard to understand concept; I'm growing weary of this not because hard to understand ideas need to be put into easy to understand ways but I'm more critical of the end result. We often loose the essence of what needs to be communicated in the effort of making things easier to understand. I dislike sugar coating and putting massive things into Christianized boxes not fit for the King himself.

Be it Santa, the Easter Bunny, Cupid, a green leprechaun or any other host of story characters...all can serve a purpose in telling a story, of instilling a value or if nothing else-a tradition. All can be completely fun and crazy and memorable.

But at the end of the day all of those story characters aren't actually alive and well...their characters who invite us in to their tradition, into their story. We can communicate to our children that we are pretending and playing a part. We can teach a lesson here or there about gift giving, about putting others ahead of us.

There is however a story we are all invited to play a part in and this story is true. It is a story about Advent, of God through his Son, in all of his splendor and holiness, who chose to come down from his heavenly throne to give himself completely for us. Perhaps you know the story?

And this story, like the story of Santa, invites us in to play a part not of fictional significance but of historical. In fact the history is our own, individually and globally. This story places the emphasis not on our part though, but on his. He's the main character, always has been, always will be. Yet our role is significant because he is the lead.

We are invited in. We are valued. We matter all because He wrote us into His story. We are who He seeks to redeem.

And this story is true; our role is proof of that.

This story this meant to be lived, meant to be shared, meant to be celebrated.

Two stories: both significant, both full of lessons to be learned. Both were true. One continues to be true, real, tangible, able to be grasped, significant and extremely personal. One matters for the sake of traditions passed down and experienced; one is far more than tradition. Both invite us in to play a part. One is temporary, the other eternal.

Josh and I want to express Christmas like this for Addy as she grows up. We both love the traditions that we've grown up with and we want to bring many of those into our own family traditions we will create. We also are so excited to find other creative ways to share the two stories, to teach their value and to celebrate their joys. We want to extend the invitation to Addy to take part in two stories and why the story of Christ come down to earth is completely personal for her. Maybe someday she'll decide to play a part in the one that matters for eternity...we pray so!

For now, our job as parents is make these lessons creative and meaningful, to put the story into reality.

So whatever the traditions may be and whoever we can surround ourselves with this year...may they be honoring to telling that story and living that story...the eternal one.

Two Stories...

Addy's first nativity: the only part missing is the shepherds!

A fleece tie blanket my friend Alissa helped me make for Addy for Christmas.

Part of our growing collection of Dickens Department 56 houses that Mema gets for us. Josh loves setting these up every year! Next year all of the books will need to come off of the bookshelf to make room for more! We love these houses!