It is more satisfying to focus on enhancing the lives of others than it is trying to achieve our own peace of mind.
When I was a child, Christmas was the most exciting day of the year. My sister and I would dance to our Christmas album, singing the songs at the top of our lungs, again and again and again until our mother nearly lost her taw. (I have no idea what a “taw” is, or if that's even how you spell it (and, yes, I googled it!), but my mom threatened to lose it fairly frequently.)
As I got older, the magic of Christmas seemed to fade just like in The Polar Express. I still loved the holiday, but it was no longer enchanting.
Until we had our first child.
Even though she was only five months old on her first Christmas, having Jessica in our home transformed the holiday. Not only did the magic of Christmas return, but it was more exciting than it had been in any year of my life. And, of course, the overwhelming humility that washes over you when you are the provider and caregiver for one of God's blessed children changes everything else in your life as well.
One Christmas morning, when we had three little girls, I woke up before the sun came. The house was quiet. I jumped out of bed, showered, dressed, and fixed my hair and makeup. Still they slept. How could they sleep on Christmas morning? Santa had come! I proceeded to flop and bang around the house for more than an hour before someone finally stirred. Of course, when one girl woke up it wasn't long before the chain reaction began.
Waiting for Santa is nothing compared to being Santa's right hand man. Nothing compares to losing yourself in the service of others.
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