There’s something about watching a child open a Christmas present that is simply magical. It’s almost like their small act of ripping paper also tears the very fabric of time, unraveling the past and bringing it to the forefront of my brain. The joy that exudes from their little hands as they pull apart the ribbons and free an object from its obtrusive packaging somehow is like a virus, and it infects me with its childlike excitement.
I wasn’t affected by this as much before as I am now. I’m not sure if age has made me more sensitive to the perfect happiness before me, or if the act of motherhood, the task of seeing my own children’s joy made it all the more acute to my senses.
There is something so fulfilling about watching your child rip into a Christmas package. You feel your own breath catch in your throat, as if their jubilant anticipation has seeped into your skin, and you can’t help but be eager to glimpse what’s inside the wrapping.
It makes me wonder, where did my excitement go? What made it dim as my age advanced?
As I watched my child opening a Christmas present it’s like she was also opening a part of me that had been left behind. Her joy, her excitement, her anticipation, it somehow opened a place within me that had been lost in Christmases long ago.
I don’t really know what happens. I don’t know what age I was or can’t pinpoint a specific time, but at some point it lost its magic. Sure I still enjoyed getting a gift, but the magic was no longer there.
I opened a box containing the jacket I had specifically asked my parents to get me, tried it on, then put it back in the box, and moved on to the next box. After they had all been opened, it was done. The build-up was over. Instead of the excitement it once entailed, it seemed more to resemble a sub-par carnival ride, like a small roller coaster; up, then down, and then it was done.
Seeing the classic expression of sheer joy on my daughter’s face, the kind that makes cheeks transform into little red balls, it almost made me envious. I wanted to feel that much happiness over a gift. I wanted the anticipation of receiving to transform my face as it did hers.
What if I could have that joy? What if I could feel my face heat-up with the warmth of that inner happiness that consumes you?
What if after the wrapping paper was discarded, the contents of my present was revealed, and the wait was over I still felt joy? What if the excitement over my gift stayed with me all year long?
Isaiah 9:6-7
6 For unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;
And the government will be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called
Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Of the increase of His government and peace
There will be no end,
Upon the throne of David and over His kingdom,
To order it and establish it with judgment and justice
From that time forward, even forever.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.
Christmas doesn’t have to be just for the kids. It doesn’t have to lose its excitement for us as we age. The greatest gift had no end. It is timeless and keeps giving to us all the time.
It’s a gift that can fill you with joy, transform you, and give you back the childlike awe and wonder you thought was lost in time.
Make this Christmas be the year you get back your joy for the season.
That is all.
Ruthie Young says
may I repost this?
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Oh yes. Please feel free.