living loved

Their land is full of silver and gold; there is no end to their treasures. Their land is full of horses; there is no end to their chariots. Their land is full of idols; they bow down to the work of their hands, to what their fingers have made. So people will be brought low and everyone humbled. . . – Isaiah 2: 7-9

“Merry Pagan Christmas!” the bearded beauty shouts in the truck as we laugh and giggle our way to the tree farm. “Merry Pagan Christmas!” he chuckles again as we rush to grab our package we cannot wait to deliver to our eldest child. “Merry Pagan Christmas!” once again as we light up the house in excitement and fun in anticipation of the season that is upon us.

What season is that?

You may be wondering what season is upon us if all we ever delivered was a “ho, ho, ho” and a neatly wrapped (not so neatly from me) present, a smile, and a “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal” in a big red bow. Or maybe you wouldn’t wonder at all…because our land is full of treasures, full of idols, and we bow down to what we have created.

Merry Pagan Christmas.

Obviously, our clan embraces all the pagan magic of Christmas. We tree, we present, we decorate, and we do all the things (we even Santa – don’t tell anyone).

But we also stare in wonder at the birth of a savior. We read and pray and talk and listen to stories about how our God, our Father chose us through His Son. We celebrate and praise and sing happy birthday to the one who chose a broken humanity and a cross over heaven. We give and volunteer and keep bringing our pagan Christmas cheer back to Christ. We lay down our idols again, and again, and again at the cross knowing we cannot do this without Him, without the birth and the resurrection of Jesus, without the endless gifts He gives us through the humble, quaint birth of His son.

We are brought low and humbled in remembrance of Him. We are brought low and humbled by a gift that we could never give. We are brought low and humbled not by the gifts or lack of gifts under a tree but by the gift that came without ribbons and tags. And we stand until our puzzlers are sore, in awe and wonder that Christmas still comes, whether rich or poor. “It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags.”

Jesus came.

Merry Christmas.

XOXO, Loni