‘Twas the Night Before Christmas by Rocky Fleming

​If you were like me those words above were an announcement that something magical would be happening.  The poem by Clement Clarke Moore stirred the imagination of countless children around the globe.  It caused us to look up and look out for his elves that were spying on us to report if we were good or bad.  That part was creepy.  My little children loved being surprised with the knock on the door and when opened, finding three candy bars waiting for them. They didn’t know that their dad was the elf doing the knocking, as I hurriedly ran back to the back door in time to “see who knocked on our door.” Watching their imaginations run wild with the mystery of the Christmas poem as it played out in their minds, was an on-ramp for us to move toward another story, a real story of a visit by angels to shepherds, as they watched over their flock of sheep by night.  This was when I would see their minds engaging with the mystery that happened that night in the region around Bethlehem.  This process built a bridge from heaven to earth, as our children were introduced to the Gospel, which was indeed good news for mankind including them.

​I often hear negative criticism about stories and poems such as this being a diversion from the truth of Christmas.  It can be.  But it doesn’t have to be.  If we park out on the toys and tinsel it will fade into nothing as the kids get older.  However, if we use these things as on-ramps to discuss the mystery of that night for the shepherds in that field who suddenly had an angel telling them of the birth of Jesus and where He was located, we can build a bridge for truth to be shared.  Simple questions such as, “What if it had been you who heard this angel and what followed when a vast number of angels lit up the sky with praise and worship?  How would you respond?  What questions would you ask?”  

Those questions opened up good discussions to discover the real truth of Christmas.  Even making a little campfire with the children while we pretended to be the shepherds that night in the field, built a bridge to the truth of Christmas.  Laying back on a blanket on a clear night to look at the majesty of God’s creation built a bridge for the truth of Christmas to be found, and still does, as they do similar things with our grandchildren.

​I’ve discovered there is more to the Christmas story every year that I experience this time of year.  I love the mystery, and the yet-to-be-discovered truths wrapped up in tiny truths that lead to bigger truths.  I feel it’s important that I don’t fail to watch and wait for what God wants to show me, similar to the way I watched and waited to see what was wrapped by bright paper and ribbons from my parents.  Though Sallie and I have now chosen to give gifts only to our grandchildren and discourage them to us, there is a gift that never fades, never ceases to be amazing, and is always opened on Christmas day.  It is the main gift.  The one that keeps on giving.  The One who we celebrate on His birthday.  Happy birthday Jesus. To You belong all honor, all glory, and all attention.  Amen!