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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AuthorRichard Cohrs Archives
December 2016
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