Last night I sent the boys out on a date. In "boyspeak" we called it a mission. Andrew had to take pictures of lots and lots of Christmas light displays with the digital camera, and then his daddy took him out to grab a treat and "bond" (we've both been suffering from Yasar withdrawl, but Andrew seems to be particularly whiny lately about missing his dad). They had a great time, the pictures are very cool (if a little blurry), and I plan to have them made into a photo book here if I could get my %@*^! slooooow internet to upload my photos to their server! Argh!
My real motivation to getting the boys out of the house is I needed to get the Christmas presents wrapped. My sneaky little 6-year-old was adamant that he was going to see his surprises, so I needed that extra layer of security that festive paper adds. I hunkered down with my scissors and magic tape and got it all done.
And then I looked at our presents. Sure are a lot less then years past. I started feeling a little bad. I mean, it's Christmas! We should have lots of gifts to open, not this small, pathetic pile. Isn't that our right? Oh, so humiliating......
I guess what happened next could be classified as an epiphany. Why are we opening presents on His birthday? It should be about what gifts we can give Jesus on His special day, right?
I'll give you a moment to digest that.
So I've been praying about what Jesus wants for Christmas this year. I feel like the little drummer boy - not much to give, but willing to give all I have. I can't wait to see where He leads me!
(Somehow, I don't think it's going to be to Zhu Zhu Hamsters)