December 26th

FORWARD

I’m sharing this simple poem because I know many of you are Christian parents and I hope this will be something you and your family enjoy.  If you would like a cute printed copy my sister and I are printing and mailing them out (contact me if you have any questions).

This poem is something I’ve fiddled with and held onto for a while as I’ve pondered my Savior and Christmas traditions.  I don’t like Elf on the Shelf or the Easter Bunny because I think they’re kind of creepy but I was pleasantly surprised a few years ago to learn how the origin story of Saint Nicolas was much better than the distracting toy maker portrayed in our society today.

Long before Santa was a magical toy maker, with a flying sleigh, and elf helpers he was Saint Nicolas, and before he was a saint, he was just Nicolas; someone who tried to follow Jesus’ teachings and example.

I don’t know if all the stories are true but there are beautiful legends of him using his wealth to help the poor and even save girls from prostitution and slavery by paying for their dowry.  Some historians say he was the saint of good luck, others say that he was the saint of generosity, but my favorite was how he was deemed a protector of children and sailors.  Not all legends are true, but I hope these are, because I love protectors of children and it sounds like he was a real Mr. Rogers.

While Saint Nicolas turned out cooler than the one I grew up with, I hope this poem helps you to celebrate Christ-mas and not Santa-mas.  I hope this poem helps put him back in his proper place as a helper, but not as the Healer.  A saint who was a servant, and not Savior or Redeemer.

As I turn away from Santa, the poster child for consumerism, and see him as Nicolas the believer, I am grateful for all the people in the world trying to live as Jesus did.  I hope that when I finally meet my Savior I can say with an honest heart that I gave what I could.

I’ll let you move onto my little Christmas poem, but I just want to end by saying that if this holiday is painful, lonely, confusing, stressful, frustrating, or just not as cheery as it “should” be, just know your Christmas is not wasted!  Our mortal pain is why we celebrate our Savior!

You are why He came.

And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying, Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.  Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.  Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.  Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.  Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.  Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.  Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.  Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven. - MATTHEW 5

I hope you like the poem but please take time to read the original Christmas story out of the bible.  It’s much better.

You are loved!

Merry Christmas!

POEM

DECEMBER 26TH

By Sarah Jones

Copyright of Jones & Moss

The day after Christmas, far away, in the ice and the snow;

There sat Saint Nicolas, troubled and alone.

The elves were cheering.

The year's work was done!

But Christmas for Santa had not been fun.

Sometimes pain reaches deep in your heart;

It can feel like your life is tearing apart.

Santa tried to hide his sad feeling.

He claimed there was no time for healing.

He worked hard and buried his worries down deep;

But they never went away and it became difficult to sleep.

After hours of watching from inside the house,

Mrs. Claus finally came out to try help him rouse.

“Give Him try,” she said with a hug and a kiss,

“I have a feeling He’ll want to talk to you about this.”

“How can I call on Him? He doesn't have time for me.

Plus I’ll be fine, I’m just tired of holiday greed.”

“Why don’t you try?

I’m sure He’ll understand.

It was Him you originally offered your working hand.”

Santa agreed but moved wearily slow.

He wasn’t quite sure he was ready to go.

But he had tried many things that didn’t seem to work.

He needed to trust the ultimate Healer with his hurt.

When Saint Nicolas finally knocked on the Messiah’s door;

His knees were shaking and he stumbled to the floor.

But the person who answered was indeed the Good Friend.

Someone he’d relied on time and time again.

“Shalom,” said the Master, helping him up with a smile.

“Hello,” said the servant, "Can I stay for a while?”

“Come in,” said the Master, “Come in and please rest.”

Then He gave Santa a hug. His were always the best.

Saint Nick tried not to cry or say too much;

But couldn’t hold back, he had suppressed quite a bunch.

I’ve been working quite hard down here on earth;

But I’ve accidentally taken away the focus from your birth.

All they want is toys, they think I’m something special;

But they’ve forgotten the point and what’s actually essential.

I tried to be like You, to give and to care;

But this season I didn’t find You anywhere.

The Good Shepherd looked at him, tilted head and teary eyes;

There is more you’re not saying, why did you really stop by?

Santa should have known he’d see through his heart;

And while he shared his woes he gently fell apart.

“There’s a pain,” he said, “that won’t go away.

No one else can heal it, but there’s more I should say.”

As the storyteller now, I should tell you this;

There are parts of this story we can’t find or have missed.

I don’t know what troubled Santa that difficult year.

Saint Nick kept it private and Jesus held it dear.

Some say his health had taken a worrying turn.

Maybe he was betrayed, or something he yearned.

Some say making millions of presents burnt his candle on both ends.

Some say he hurt someone so badly his soul wouldn’t mend.

But most think his pain was caused by the fragileness of mortal life;

That brings aches like a dagger, sharp sting, and dull knife.

They say someone he loved had been called up to heaven;

That caused him to fall into a reverent depression.

Though we don’t know exactly what was said this conversation,

There are universal things about pain you don’t have to imagine.

The details on where they spoke are also uncertain;

In an office, in a book, or by a window with curtains?

Was it up in a mountain, or down by the sea?

Was it on the road, or on bended knee?

The good news is it doesn’t matter where you are;

The One who died for our sins is never too far.

The important bit, about Santa, is he regained his peace.

He smiled, even chuckled, at his tearful release.

Santa didn’t learn everything, he still had questions, sure;

But he knew his Redeemer helps all become free and pure.

The Savior also taught how pain can bring holy gifts;

Like empathy, strength, love and knowledge to uplift.

After more hugs and some “See you soons!”

Santa returned home under the light of the moon.

He was a new man as he got back to work;

And was not irritated, anxious, or irked.

All of us have talents and callings to complete.

The Only Begotten had reminded him not to retreat.

Santa knew some of his doings weren’t especially good;

But he still had time to try to correct all that he could.

Now Santa was certain about the gifts he would make.

He didn’t like the holiday excuses to take take take take.

He knew he wanted to give gifts that were meaningful and pure.

He didn’t want to distract them like a shiny hook with a lure.

He wanted us to be aware of other people’s pain.

He determined not to be a toy conveyor belt or money drain.

He was tired of being rated the top hero for children under ten.

He wanted kids to remember God and strive for gifts of Heaven.

He remembered old Christmas feasts, parties, and recitals;

And he took time to read the first Christmas story out of the Bible.

So now, you might have noticed how Santa slowed down his shop.

He still brings gifts, but his frivolous working has stopped.

Now he breathes slowly as he welds, molds, and carves;

As he ponders the children, alone, sad, and starved.

Sometimes his gifts are just a simple treat or card;

Others help kids to be brave, kind, wise, and work hard.

He has more family enriching activities in mind,

Which he hopes will recover the spiritually blind.

Every year Santa gives Jesus his heart and soul,

Never to grow hardened like an old piece of coal.

Gifts are nice, and can touch a heart;

But things of God will never be torn apart.

We need not to wait to reach out for help.

He hears even the tiniest call or yelp.

If you wonder about things as humans often do.

If you wonder why you go through the things you go through.

If you wonder, how to feel joy when someone you love is gone;

Or how to make things right that go terribly wrong.

If confused why bad things happen when you did everything right;

Or when you wish for the sun, you might face a dark night.

Just know there is Someone much better than me and you;

Who has a plan, much greater and He’ll help us through!

He came down to earth, an infant, small and defenseless;

To help the imperfect, when we’re in trouble and restless.

He came and suffered things we’ll never fully comprehend.

Our advocate with the Father, He’ll stay with us to the very end.

What a special night when He was born to Mary in a stable.

Stars, angels, and miracles are truth not a fable.

What an amazing gift! The Son of God lives!

This Christmas what gifts to Him will you give?