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“One of the things that vexes me to the point of near insanity is understanding the message of Christmas and realizing the potency of this message to transform the worst of our lives so that we can become the best of our ourselves, to shift the momentum of entire cultures so that the world is brilliantly enriched by each instead of destroyed by all, and to handily touch the hem of history itself so that history is changed in the touching. And while all of these are ours for the taking, I continue to watch the mindless hoards trudge past these things in order to embrace everything that is not the ‘everything’ of these gifts. And so I pray that God would grant them a heart ready to be captured by the ‘everything’ of Christmas.”

“Sometimes what is said to be a gift may appear more of a curse only because the greatest gifts of all are the gifts that have enough disruptive force to break us out of everything that’s breaking us. And God loves us far too much not to give us exactly those kinds of gifts.”

“And so to tame Christmas we spin myths to temper the story, we create our own caricatures to speak our own lines into the script, we gift ourselves to enhance an adventure now lagging, and we think we’re on a grand adventure when we’ve completely forgotten what an adventure is.”

“Fear tells me that while there might be a host of people who wish to stand beside me in times of crisis, the tangled wreckage is sometimes so enormous that the best of their efforts leave them stranded at a great distance. And standing desperately alone surveying the carnage that holds all others a bay, God suddenly taps me on the shoulder, leans over and whispers, 'how about a little demolition?”

“It is early Christmas morning. As I write, the sun has yet to rise. The world remains drowsy, only now beginning the process of shaking itself awake. But as the world rises from its slumber, will it awaken? Will it come to understand the utter immensity of this day? That in a single yet brilliant moment in time, God inserted the whole of Himself into time and effortlessly broke the back of history in that single act? Will we begin to comprehend the fact that in that singular act, God altered the entire trajectory of time itself, thereby sending the future careening toward hope instead of descending into darkness? And are we able to even remotely fathom what the world would have been like had time not been altered in this exact manner? On any morning, will we awaken to all of that, or will we do nothing more than arise from slumber but never find ourselves awakened in the arising?”

“When Christmas has passed, if I find that I am none the better for having engaged it, the only explanation that I can muster up is that I can be handed the greatest of gifts, yet still have the emptiest of hands. And finding myself in that dreadful condition, I am left to assume that the fool within me has chosen to live with the hands that now define me instead of embracing the God Who wishes to fill me.”