“I wanna do my cawendur.” He says
to me with blue eyes sparkling. I note that the ottoman is pushed up against
the door where the Advent Calendar is hanging.
“You have to wait until Daddy gets
home to do the Advent Calendar.”
“I wanna do a GREEN one!” He
clarifies, referencing the color of the pocket on the calendar.
“Yes, when Daddy gets home.”
Not a minute later, when my back is
turned, he climbs up on the ottoman and his sneaky little hands start patting
the pockets to see which ones have chocolate in them. Obviously one of the
green ones does. So much for listening and obeying and waiting.
The next year I tried again, he was comprehending more and I
wanted him to grasp how magical and amazing a time of year this was. Again, he
didn’t get it. And on Christmas morning, he began to get really frustrated when
he HAD to keep opening presents and couldn’t just start playing with the ones
he had. I believe the concept of the 12 Days of Christmas was developed by a
mother with toddlers. A new gift every day for 12 days? Genius! Just not the
birds, that’s too much bird poop for anyone to handle.
This year he is excited about the Calendar. It mostly has
chocolate and lollipops in it, and a few toys and new, unbreakable, ornaments. But
still, he’s excited. We talk about Jesus, and how this is the day he was born. We’ve
had some wonderful moments. And then, because the days are short and he is
bored with the house, or because he just wants chocolate, we have tantrums. I’ve
wanted to cancel Christmas several times. Why am I trying to reward this little
fiend when all it gets me is tears and tantrums, and makes me feel like a
horrible mom when I have to yell and discipline?
A few nights ago, my husband and I had a conversation about
giving gifts. Sometimes it’s hard to spend money on people we don’t think
deserve it. It feels like a waste of our resources and time. And then my
husband said, “What if God had felt that way about us?” Ouch. What if God had
looked at us and seen that we would be selfish, angry, uncharitable,
judgmental, discriminating, unappreciative, and forgetful until our dying day
even with Jesus’ sacrifice, and decided it just wasn’t worth it. What if He had
decided to turn a blind eye to us because we just weren’t worth redeeming and
left us to wallow in our own sin and evil tendencies?
If
you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! (Matthew
7:11).
How easy is it to forget this! I love seeing my son’s eyes
light up when I hand him a new Hot Wheels car, or a lollipop, or something he
is excited about. I love how he does his little happy dance and grabs my leg
and hugs it tight. It brings me such joy to reward him when he has successfully
filled out a sticker chart or been a good listener through a hard errand. I
know how to give him good gifts, and I love doing it. Why do I assume that God
is any different? He gave us the greatest gift, the most costly and valuable
thing He had to give: His Son. God the Son became incarnate, he became human.
The infinite became an infant and didn’t just teach us about God and how to
live and what was right, he died for
us. He paid our debt. He restored us to righteousness. He gave us the
opportunity to know and love God, and to enter into His presence unashamed.
So when we give gifts to those who seem unworthy, we are
actually emulating the love of God. God didn’t withhold from us when we were at
our worst. He didn’t wait for us to get our ducks in a row or our crap
together.
As
for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to
live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom
of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient…But
because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with
Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been
saved. (Ephesians 2:1-2, 4-5)
God saved us when we were dead. Think about that. We weren’t mostly dead—there was no miracle
pill to save us. We were all dead. There was nothing left to save, there was
nothing worth saving. As Miracle Max would say, “The only thing left to do is
go through his clothes and look for loose change.”[1]
The only thing left to do is loot the body because there is nothing left in it.
We deserved death, but He didn’t let us languish there—that’s mercy, that God
didn’t give us what we deserved. But
because of his great love for us God raised us to life and filled us with
His Spirit—that’s grace, that God gave us what we didn’t deserve: life, and
life in abundance.
On those days when I consider whether my son deserves that
huge Monster Truck that is hiding in the basement, or when I wonder if I did
the right thing spending money and time on something or someone, it’s important
to remember that it isn’t about me and my resources, but about God and what He
has already done. When we give good gifts, we get to emulate the love of God in
our lives and show the world that God is present! He is not far away, He is not
disinterested, He is not immune to our tears and tragedies, or our joy and
success. He is near, He is interested, He celebrates and mourns with us. He
disciplines us for our good, and gives us good gifts because He loves us. If we
remember nothing else this season, let us remember the love of God. Amen.
[1]
From the movie, The Princess Bride.
Miracle
Max: He probably owes you money huh? I’ll
ask him.
Inigo Montoya: He’s dead. He can’t talk.
Miracle
Max: Whoo-hoo-hoo, look who knows so
much. It just so happens that your friend here is only MOSTLY dead. There’s a
big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive.
With all dead, well, with all dead there’s usually only one thing you can do.
Inigo
Montoya: What’s that?
Miracle
Max: Go through his clothes and look for
loose change.