This morning I am on my way to Peoria to finish Christmas shopping, sipping on a vanilla latte made from my Black Friday issued espresso maker, drowning in self-loathing because I'm not on my way to Kansas City, when I realize how egocentric I really am. I don't know if you've ever had what Mrs. Young would like to call a "Come to Jesus moment," but somewhere between Jingle Bell Rock and something foreign by Josh Groban, I remember that I am not what Christmas is all about. Christmas is more than any of the errands to be accomplish, presents to be wrapped, oil to be changed, being home for a wedding, ect. ect. Christmas is about God becoming man- God in flesh, who dwelt among humanity. Who am I, living in God's economy, to think that Christmas is all of those things I previously listed? I know this is in my head, but I so desperately desire to believe this in my heart of hearts.
As someone brilliant penned centuries ago, "He knows our need. To our weakness He is no stranger."
This is my weakness- to be selfish-yet God chose to personally see me and my need. How completely selfless of Him.
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