The Christmas celebration is a time when I recall the gift of Jesus, born a baby in the most unlikely circumstances. The story of His birth is one I never tire of hearing.
Christmas is also a time for presents. The other night I had the house to myself. I sat on the couch bathed in the glow of the Christmas tree lights and let my mind travel back over the years to past trees – past Christmas memories. I thought, “What is Christmas really about?” As I relived past Christmases, I would have to honestly say, “It was about the presents.” Yes, for the first years of my life, it was all about the presents I would receive. I can recall going to church on Christmas Eve, reciting my lines, eating the cookies, changing into pajamas, setting out the milk and cookies, kneeling at the bedside and praying fervently for – a BB gun, a real crystal radio, a big boy’s bike, an erector set, Fort Apache, or any one of a myriad of presents. The excitement of awaking my brothers to tiptoe into the living room to see the tree and its promise of one special gift evokes powerful memories. Yes, for the first years of my life it was receiving presents. Then there was the special Christmas when I was older that life began to shift. I was still happy to open presents, but now it was more exciting to watch them being opened. Every year I tried to get just the perfect gifts for Mom, Dad, and my brothers. I wanted to give them the gift that they would always remember. The one special gift not unlike the ones I had received that gave me immeasurable joy. One year I gave Mom a gift that brought tears to her eyes. One year it was Dad’s turn for tears. Each year the goal was to bring tears of joy to my parent’s eyes. Each year my wife holds my heart in her hand when she opens my present to her. I try to listen to her dreams, remember the hints and decipher the body language so that I could give her the perfect present – the one gift that would take her breath away. Sometimes I do. Her look when she opens her present fills my heart with such joy that it seems as if it will break. Then one year life changed again. No longer was “presents” was what it was all about, but rather it was “presence.” The greatest gift we gave our children’s Grandparents was our presence on Christmas Eve. The look of pure joy on my parents’ faces when we all piled out of the station wagon was better than any present we could have given them. On Christmas Eve, Dad sang louder, Mom baked more and we laughed longer when we were together. It is my turn to be grandpa and I now know firsthand that Christmas is all about presence. Over the years, I have learned that “the gift” is important, but presents are not as important as “presence.” The greatest gift we gave to each other is our presence, standing with family, friends, neighbors and congregation as we celebrate the – the greatest present ever received is the gift of Jesus, our Savior.
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Parent/Teacher Conferences – the very name induces fear and trembling in the heartiest of souls.
For teacher – the day is looked at from the perspective of, “How can I share the good and the not-so-good news about the child to the parent?” More often than not, it is the momma who sits across from the teacher wanting to discover the greatest in her child. Teachers struggle to find just the right balance between good news and not-so-good news. Sometimes the momma reveals a struggle in her life that was previously unknown. The teacher must then switch tack as the reason behind certain behaviors and nonperformance is brought to the surface. Children are very sensitive people. They react to every word, nuance and mannerism from their parent. Children will often internalize conflicts and the result is a drop in grades, acting up in class or unexpected absences. Teachers must be on guard not to judge too harshly when a child exhibits symptoms of a deeper problem. Sometimes teachers have the pure joy of sharing great news with a parent. Momma will begin to verbalize her feelings that her child certainly is faltering and failing, only to be stopped short by a teacher who can smile, sit back and tell momma, “Your child is doing absolutely great!” I lived for such conferences. Parents enter the conference with fear of the unknown – what will teacher report about my child? Every parent has sat in the chair to listen to a teacher explain how their child is living a different life in the classroom than what was reported at home. Parents must check their natural instinct to believe their child and try to listen rationally to a teacher. I have not always succeeded in hearing. I too often want to believe my child to the point of ignoring what is told to me. Sometimes I am the parent who can react in genuine surprise as the teacher tells me that my child is doing great! It is ice-cream-cones-around time! Students always dread the return of the parents from the conference, for they can be rewarded or grounded – for life. Students always know the truth, but somehow hope that their faults will be overlooked – forgiven – wiped clean. Does that sound familiar? Jesus is the one who wipes our slate clean! We do not live in dread of the conference; rather we look forward to it. We each must face our Father, but we know that when He looks at us, He is looking at us through His Son. |
AuthorRichard Cohrs Archives
December 2016
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