I glanced back to the Christmas tree while climbing the stairs on Christmas Eve. The tree skirt was flooded with packages of all sizes. Santa was generous this year. Christmas morning would be filled with joy and laughter. Once again.
I realize how very fortunate our children are. How very blessed I am. We have a home. Food on the table. We have numerous Bibles on our bookshelves. We know the Baby in the manger as our Lord and Savior. We have it all. On earth and in Heaven. But I am ashamed to say that my heart attitude does not always reflect the gratitude of a life that is blessed beyond measure. As a matter of fact, my heart attitude stinks at times.
It’s Christmas morning and I decided to write a letter to Jesus, wrapping each trial and blessing as a gift of thanksgiving to the newborn King. I thought I’d share it with you:
Dear Jesus. My Savior. My Lord.
I bring you my imperfect heart to the light of your perfection and wrap each blessing as an offering of praise to you.
You gave me love when I was lonely. Hope when I was lost. You gave me a family that loves me and a house that You turned into a home. You give me food on the table each day. I have never known hunger. You’ve given me healing. For my body and soul. You’ve given me peace in the midst of valleys and strength to endure those trials that were too hard to withstand alone. When Isaiah said you would be Immanuel, he declared truth (Isaiah 7:14). You are God with me. Always. Thus I wrap my blessing box with praise and thanksgiving and lay it down at the foot of your tree, the cross.
But I have another box for you, Jesus. This box is heavier. Too heavy to carry. This box is loaded with trials and imperfections: my unstable health. Shaky finances. Shattered dreams. Disappointments. The clock. “My” clock, which often says You are late. A heart that at times dares to doubt your goodness.
I find this box ugly. But You say it’s beautiful. You say it’s lovely because its contents are tools that You use to turn me into the person You have called me to be. In this box are proofs of my weakness that makes me reach out to your supernatural strength.
So I bring it to your tree, Jesus. I bring it as an offering of praise. Because I believe you, Jesus. I know this box is good. Because You say so. I’ve walked long enough with You to know that You turn everything for my good. And Your glory. To know that nothing will ever separate me from Your love (Romans 8:28-31). These are not just words, Jesus. It’s TRUTH. It’s been Truth in my life before. It will forever be.
Two packages, Jesus. Humble Christmas gifts to the Owner of the Universe. It’s just what you wanted, isn’t it, Jesus? My praise. My trust. My unshakeable allegiance to You and Your Word. They are yours, Savior.
I am yours.
Merry Christmas, Immanuel.