It’s
amazing to think how much Christmas morning has changed during my lifetime. From the lyrical tiny tot with my eyes all
aglow of my earliest Christmas mornings, to the whiny snot with my eyes all a-glare
of my skeptical, present-hungry teenager years, from my first Christmas with my
wife, where every gift seemed to be an ornament emblazoned with “Our First
Christmas,” to the lump-in-the-throat blessing of watching our own small
children explode with excitement at the sight of their presents under the tree, it
seems like every Christmas morning of my 51 years has been somewhat different.
Some
things about Christmas mornings have been constant over the years, though. I’ve been fortunate to have been “home for
Christmas” every year, no matter where home may have been at the time. I’m blessed with family and friends who,
though not always physically present on Christmas morning, always extend their Christmas
greetings via cards, phone calls and now texts and social media postings. Last,
and certainly not least, I have received socks and chocolate every Christmas
for about as long as I can remember. My
family obviously knows me well as a heavy user of both – dark chocolate, if you’re
taking notes. All of these things, of
course, could change, so I cherish them every year while they last.
There is one thing about Christmas morning
that will never change – the unwavering feature of every Christmas since the
first: On Christmas morning “a child is
born, a son is given: and the government shall rest upon his shoulder, and his
name shall be called Wonder Counselor,
mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:6)
Every Christmas morning, God’s Word is made flesh and dwells among us to
share in our humanity so that we may come to share in his divinity. Every Christmas morning, indeed, every day of
our lives, the birth of the Christ Child offers us a new dawn, a new beginning,
a second, third or even fourth chance.
In short, the birth of the Christ Child offers us hope.
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