I read a couple of things this week that struck a chord inside of me and have lingered and bounced around near my heart and made me feel something that I'm not sure I can put into words. Maybe it will do the same for you.
I know what I really want for Christmas. I want my childhood back. Nobody is going to give me that...I know it doesn't make sense, but since when is Christmas about sense, anyway? It is about a child of long ago and far away, and it is about the child of now. In you and me. Waiting behind the door of our hearts for something wonderful to happen.
When I was a boy I believed in Christmas.
A miracle season
To make a new start.
But I don't need no miracle
Sweet baby Jesus.
Just help me find
Some kind of hope in my heart.
--Randy Stonehill (Christmas at Denny's)
While I do believe in--and love deeply--the Christ of Christmas more than I ever have, I sometimes long for the unselfconscious ways of childhood. The days before I was told to 'grow up and be a man'. Which all too often means--quit being amazed, stop all that wonder, turn off your feelings and just think about what your doing, after all, it's a big, serious world out there.
I want to be a wild boy again! Not knowing or caring about words like jaded or tainted or disbelief. Not caught in the trap of my own intellect, but free to run in the wide open spaces of my heart. A return to innocence. After all, didn't Jesus come to free us of our guilt and shame? And isn't that what keeps us from living from the deep impulses of our heart? Isn't that called 'innocence'? That's the hope I have today. The hope of a childlike--and yes, even childish--Christmas.