"Ok, Josh, it's time to go!" I said as I placed a giggly Thomas in the car seat.
Josh immediately finished velcro-ing his shoes and I watched him stuff a wallet in his back pocket much like his daddy does. A few weeks ago he had literally cleaned the entire upstairs for me and I payed him some money. This was the morning he had been waiting for. The moment he could go into a toy shop and buy something with the money he'd earned.
We walked into the store and were immediately greeted with joyful Christmas music singing all around. An employee offered any assistance we may need. Toys upon toys sparkled from beautifully displayed shelves and galvanized bins. There were boy sections and girl sections. There were toys on display for children to sample. There was a woman singing Christmas songs in the corner with her guitar. It was like an excerpt from a movie. Really, it was.
Emma Faye found herself seated at a dollhouse and began rearranging the furniture to her liking. Josh began browsing. His eyes fixed on a small little black dog in a red gingham basket.
"Do I have enough for this, Mommy?"
"Yes, you do sweetheart."
"I want to buy him all by myself." He emphatically requested.
"You can do that." I answered.
Josh walked up to the counter, pulled his money out and handed the puppy to the cashier.
"There you go , sweet guy. Enjoy your puppy," she said.
I gathered my crew and we were off to pick up Will from school. As we were driving, I heard Josh talking to his little dog in the back of the car.
Hey little puppy. I got you... and I bought you with my own money.. and now I get to bring you home. I can't WAIT for you to meet your family. You are going to love our house.
Over the speakers in my own car the song "You Came Down" was playing.
You came down. .... to a stable and a manger.. not a kingdom or a crown... you came down
Tears filled my eyes as I listened over and over to my little boy talking to his new prize. I couldn't help but see the parallel in what Christ has done for me. I thought about Christmas. I thought about Jesus as a little boy. I thought of my boys. Jesus was 7. Jesus was 5. Jesus was 7 months. He breathed our air. He walked around on the ground we trod. He saw sunsets. He rode on our waters. He came as a baby. He was born. He was born to save us.
Christmas, for me, is about that little boy. The little boy who walked into a store with every intention of purchasing a prize. Except his treasures weren't packaged in pretty boxes on fancy shelves. The toys were broken. They were missing pieces. Some were ugly. Some were unrecognizable of what they once were. Some were bruised. Some were mean. But this little boy found in them delight. Christmas, for me, was when He saw me in the corner on a broken, dusty shelf, packaged in a torn box; His heart full of love. He carried me to the counter and bought me with his life. Christmas, for me, is about the beginning of my story. The story that began when a little boy carried me out close to his bosom, much like a shepherd carries a lamb, all the while speaking:
I got you...I bought you... and now I get to bring you home. I can't wait for you to meet my family. You are going to love our house.
Christmas, for me, is about the beginning of that story.