Nails and Santa.

Typing is pretty much the only thing I can allow myself to do while my nails dry.  I’m not the most patient of people, so I tend to try to drive/read/clean/cook/do my hair before my nails are completely dry.  As a consequence for my impatience, I nearly always have to re-do one or all of my nails.  It’s unfortunate.

didn’t realize before that you can’t really see my wrists. I promise that those are my hands though.

My mom, knowing that I like to have pretty fingers, brought me back this nail polish from their cruise (even though the stuff is actually made in the United States).  It’s blue now, but you just wait until I get out into the sunshine.  It’s gonna turn green.  I’m a little too excited to watch that.

Hey, if you don’t take at least a little delight in the small things in life, you’re going to have a pretty sad existence, always waiting for something big and exciting to happen.  Nail polish is a small delight.  Jesus is a big delight.  I have both, therefore, I am set.

In case you didn’t stop by the North Park post office where they have a lovely countdown posted, I’ll be the one to let you know that there are 26 days until Christmas.  And, as I’ve mentioned, I’m trying to learn how to put Jesus at the center of how I celebrate Christmas.  So, I was just wondering what I do with Santa.

I used to really like Santa.  I remember being really excited (and also nervous) to go see Santa at the mall.  I had cut out a picture of a red, plastic play cash register from a magazine one year to make sure that he picked out the correct one.  So, it’s obvious that I believed at that time that Santa was really the one who brought me presents.  I don’t remember ever really having a moment of disillusionment though. I hear people talk about having a moment where they realized that Santa wasn’t really coming with the reindeer and elves to their chimneys every year to bring them presents.  It sounds like a horrible experience, so I’m glad I don’t remember it if I did have it.  (Mom?  Dad?  Shed some light on that?)

I’m conflicted about whether or not to like Santa.  I mean, he has a great history, starting with the monk who went around helping poor people (one of the most famous stories is about him rescuing three sisters from a life of slavery or prostitution by giving them a dowry so that they could get married.  Neat guy.) and going on to the similar figures who brought gifts to children.  I don’t have a problem with that Santa. I guess I just have a problem with Santa encouraging an excess of “stuff” and being the main advertising ploy used by companies during this time of year.

It’s like we’ve distorted every good thing.  We have lots of things in our lives that can be good – in moderation and in their proper places -, but we’ve decided, in a lot of cases, that it’s not enough there.  It must be more, bigger, better.

I want to still like Santa.  Actually, I want to live like the original, spreading TRUE Christmas spirit – freedom, joy, and hope in Jesus – to all around me.  Huh, looks like Santa kind of lives out the Jesus call if you look at it that way.

 

 

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