Jan 5, 2009

A Santa Conspiracy...

I knew it had been a conspiracy all along.  I held the weapon in my hands and glared at my parents.  For years this Daisy BB Gun was the number one item on my Christmas list.  And for years they had prevented Santa from delivering it to me.  I had always been a good boy and much deserving of such a gift, but each year it never came.  But now all was different.  Now I had direct access to the big guy.

 
You see, when I was growing up, we lived on the west side of Phoenix.  It was a great house and I had great friends, but the house had one major drawback.  It had no chimney.  I had asked my parents countless times how Santa could deliver Christmas presents when our house didn't have a chimney.  They didn't provide an answer to the question.  But that's OK.  I had already figured it out.

 
If you put all the puzzle pieces together, this is the only way it could have worked.  We always had Christmas evening with my grandparents.  Now they DID have a fireplace.  And each year Santa would provide cool presents at Grandma and Grandpa's house.  But since our house didn't have a chimney, I figured Santa must have left the other presents with my mom and dad.  Then my parents would take them home and put them under the tree.  I know because I saw them on the way home from Grandma and Grandpa's house.  

 
Somewhere between the time Santa delivered my Daisy BB gun at my grandparent's house and home, my mom and dad would confiscate it.  Perhaps they thought I was too young for such a responsibility, but what did they know?  I was almost six years old and I was a very responsible kid.

 
But when I turned six, we moved to the east side of Phoenix.  And because this house had a chimney, my parents wouldn't be able to confiscate my rightful Christmas presents.  With this move, I now had direct access to the toymaker himself.  And sure enough, that access proved invaluable.  Because that very first Christmas, in our new house, I held in my hands a shiny, lightweight, hand-crafted BB gun.

 
But it was a strange morning.  My parents didn't seem upset.  In fact, after years of obstructing Santa, they now seemed truly delighted that I held this sharpshooter in my hands.  No, the only people in the room who looked shocked were my siblings.  They had this strange look of fear in their eyes.  (This probably had more to do with the fact that on the previous Christmas I received a boomerang and proceeded to throw it at my sister when she wasn't looking.  She still has that scar to this day!)

 
Of course now I am older and have learned how Santa does it.  He doesn't need a chimney.  (He just needs an account with amazon.com.)   And each passing year I realize with greater depth and understanding that the greatest gift of all truly was the gift of God's Son at that first Christmas.  May this true gift of Christmas fill you with peace and joy this year and always.

 
Blessings,

Pastor  David "Sharpshootin" Hook