Fillin' that heart

This will be brief and it won't hurt a bit. My kids were talking about the North Star yesterday, and asking if it was called "The North Star" because it's at the North Pole, with Santa. It is, in fact.

It's also called Polaris, or Ursae Minoris. Also, as I explained to the kiddos, it was the called the Star of Bethlehem - it led those three very wise men, also called the Magi, to baby Jesus.

By then they were bored with me. Very bored, and not at all amused with all of my information.

So they asked me a question I didn't know. But Google did. How far away is the North Star?

According to Google, it's about 430 lightyears from Earth. In a car going 100 miles per hour that never stops, it would take you about 3 thousand million years to travel that distance. Wow. I hardly even like to drive down to the store.

Satisfied, my kids went away.

And I started thinking. If the Magi just trusted that star enough to follow it to Jesus, why shouldn't it be our quest to follow it too? And then I remembered, the darn thing is 3 thousand million years away.

But there is a simpler fix, thankfully.

Just invite Jesus to live in your heart. He will come right away, because He can travel much faster than the speed of light.

And He promises to stay forever.

Fragile

Every Christmas, we watch "A Christmas Story" with "Ralphie" and "Randy." If I get my way, we watch it about 18 times. Hey, you don't earn the right to quote the movie year 'round until you've seen it 372 times.

Anyway.

There's a part in the movie when the father receives, via delivery truck, a large wooden box marked "Fragile." We all know it's the infamous leg-lamp...but I still feel that pang of anticipation for him each time he runs his hand over the word, proclaiming, "Must be Italian...."
And then, as the story goes, that fragile leg breaks into a dozen pieces when Mother is cleaning one day, proving its delicate state and crushing Father's dreams of being a "major-award" winner along with it.

Such is life. Literally.

I've learned that as I get older, I also get more emotional. Maybe 10 years ago, if you would've told me there was a disastrous earthquake that decimated a region of the world, I would have had sympathy, and I might have acknowledged it to be horrific, but my life would have remained the same. I would certainly not have taken any time out of my day to thank God for my safety, nor would I have asked Him to comfort those grieving.

Now, I see a house fire on the news, and I'm reduced to weeping. And praying. Prayers of comfort and peace for those who are homeless. Prayers of thanksgiving for the safety and health of my family. Funny how things have changed.

I suppose it is just that I've realized that little things can alter the course of one's life. Even little things are big things, sometimes. We are all indirectly affected by not only the things that happen in our own life, but also by the things that happen in others' lives. It is foolish to think that we have not, ourselves, made decisions that have changed someone's life. Have you ever fired someone? Broken a heart? Paid for someone's groceries? Sent an encouraging note? Have you ever bullied?

Life is fragile. Italian or not.

And it's ever-changing. The things that are a big deal today, won't be, in a year. Maybe even in a week. But the things we say or do can have more impact than we could ever imagine. I started writing this blog about two years ago, thinking I might bring a smile to someone's face. I've never written it with the intent to have hundreds of followers; I don't care about that. If I make one person's day a little bit more bearable, I've succeeded. I've altered the course of their day in a positive direction.

Virginia O'Hanlon wrote to The Sun back in 1897 to ask if Santa Claus is real. The Sun not only said "it was so," but that "the most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see." Think about it, next time you look at the fragility of life, and words, and actions. Think about your own contribution, and then think about the way your contribution will affect others for years to come.

Make sure it's a good one.

Christ-mas

I saw a sign today that said "Beware of Christmas celebrations that remove Christ."
Isaac said, "If you remove Christ, you just have mas. What's 'mas'?"

I thought about it for a second: I'm not really good at word origins, in fact, I was perfectly content with everything being a derivative of the Greek language, a la "My Big Fat Greek Wedding."

I did take Spanish class, however, and back then, I learned that 'mas' means 'more.'

And that's exactly right. If you remove Christ, you just have more. More greed, more stuff, more emptiness. More hype, more stress, more people who say I can't wait for the holidays to be over. More depression.

Less of what matters.

Many argue the tradition of celebrating Christmas on December 25; many argue celebrating what has been called a Pagan holiday, altogether. The point is, it's a time to celebrate the greatest gift of our entire existence, and how one tiny little life could blossom into a perfect man, who would wipe away the sins of the world with His incredible sacrifice. And that's the only point. The rest is just gravy.

When I was a kid, I had mile-long Christmas lists, too. I wanted lots of stuff. My kids have those same lists, minus the requests for legwarmers, Fad makeup and the game Girl Talk. I waited for Christmas cookies, parties and the sound of sleigh bells. We didn't have Norad to track Santa, but the weather man on the news would often show super cool "spottings" of the sleigh on the radar. I still wish it was like that; Santa was much more mysterious then.

Anyway, I have had really odd feelings about Christmas this year. Somewhere between anxious and depressed. I feel like it's happening too fast, and it's too routine. I feel like this giant to-do list cloud is hovering, and there has been no peaceful enjoyment of the true meaning of the holiday. Bake this, wrap that, be at so 'n' so's house at 7:00. Fix the lights, plan the meal, clean the house, check to see if Amazon has a better price...more, more, more.

So I'm stopping. Right now. The stress part, I mean. Christmas is coming, ready or not. More importantly, Christ is coming, ready or not. So I'm gonna take His word for it, and cast my worries on Him, instead of trying to make everything perfect for the Super-Holiday this has become. My kids will get over it. They aren't getting mountains of gifts that cost me well into next spring. We talked last night about the gifts of the Magi...and the fact that there were only three. My boys were appalled. We agreed on four gifts each, an idea I saw on Pinterest: Something they want, something they need, something to wear and something to read. I told them to count themselves lucky; it's one more gift than Jesus got.

I'm hoping that we can put more Christ back into Christmas this year; that's my goal.

An unrelated goal, now that I've mentioned it, though: does anyone have a Girl Talk game anymore? My mother always said it was "too-old" for me. I'd like to see if I'm mature enough to play it now. That, and I always thought those fake red zits looked like fun. Anyway, I regress.

Go to church, friends. Learn what this whole thing is all about, and get ready. While we might be able to track Santa with Norad, we sure can't track Jesus, and He's going to show up one of these days, whether the house is decorated or not.