It comes around every year about this time.
It's the cripsness in the air. It's the twinkle in the lights. It's a glimmer of hope found in a stranger's eye.
Some call it magic. Some call it Christmas spirit. Others may even say love is in the air.
Whatever you want to call it, I believe in it, and I know it's real.
Maybe we create it, but regardless, I seem to look forward to it every year and participate in every aspect I can.
If I listed all of the things I love about the holidays, you would probably get bored and stop reading. Perhaps you already are, but if so, that's for you to know and preferably not tell me. I'll spare you and just mention a few.
The holidays warm my heart. I love the feeling of a warm drink in my hand against the cold air. Christmas lights and Bing Crosby classics make me swoon. How can you not smile when Wallace and Davis along with the Haynes sisters set out to surprise General Waverly? (If you don't know what I'm talking about, we need to have a Christmas movie night asap). Don't even get me started on Christmas baking.
Another thing. Have you ever noticed that a room doesn't need any overhead lights once your Christmas tree is lit? Take my word for it. Light a candle, plug in the lights to your tree, and turn off the rest of the lights in your house. The feeling in your heart will tell you the rest.
The holidays. They are in the air, in a song, and in our hearts.
I have the absolute joy of serving every week in a class 4 year olds at my church on Sunday mornings. I would have to say it's one of the highlights of my week. I have been serving for several months now, so I am familiar with most of the faces that come through the door. My Sunday morning usually consists of building a house out of legos, trying to identify the sculptures the boys build (it plays to my disadvantage that I don't have any brothers. I can hardly distinguish a Transformer and a Power Ranger), mouthing the words to kids worship songs to avoid anyone hearing my less than pitch perfect singing voice, and if I'm lucky, coloring a picture of Peter, Paul, or Jesus.
One of my favorite things about serving is the conversations I get to have. Some of the things the kids say catch me off guard, some make me laugh or smile, and some put my life back into perspective. A comment made this past Sunday left me with the latter.
Each week we read a Bible story and then ask questions about it. This week, we began talking about the Christmas story and angels coming to tell Mary and Joseph that Mary would have a baby and was to name him Jesus. As you can imagine, this wasn't the first time I had heard this story, so I didn't think much about it.
When we got to the questions, I read "Who is the greatest Christmas gift of all?" All the kids yelled "JESUS" in unison, but that wasn't it. One boy in particular looked over at me, touched his heart and said, "Jesus is in my heart."
Though we kept going with the lesson, my mind stopped. He had nailed it right on the nose. The greatest gift of all is deep in our hearts. He's not a feeling. He's not a passing breeze or a month on a calendar. He is in our hearts. Now and always.
Once the tree comes down, the crisp air slips away, and MIX96 starts playing regular music again, one thing doesn't change. God gave us a gift. He is there, and if we have accepted Him, He is in our hearts.
I believe in Christmas magic. I believe in that warm feeling you get when singing a Christmas Carol. But most of all, I believe in the one gift I know to be true. The real reason for the season. He is in our hearts.
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