My Grown-Up Christmas List
I remember when Santa hoisted my hefty three-year-old son up on his knee, tapped his sweet little nose with a white-gloved hand, and asked him what he wanted for Christmas. Justice leaned in with his round apple cheeks and whispered sweetly, “I want a unicorn.” Four years have passed and Justice’s gift requests are no less implausible. This year he asked for “a bed that has a kitchen, my own candle for my room, and my own cookie jar.” So basically he wants a studio apartment. I gotta hand it to the kid, he shoots for the moon. But he’s crazy to think I’d allow him to have fire or food anywhere near his bedroom; not with his track record anyway.
Did you ever wish for something that you knew was out of reach? When do we stop doing that, wishing with childlike innocence? Adulthood sobers us, doesn’t it? We stop asking Santa for things like unicorns and instead ask our relatives for a gift card to our favorite grocery store. Heck, just gas money would be nice most years.
One of my favorite Christmas songs as a child was a silly ballad by gospel singer Babbie Mason called Shopping List. It went something like this:
I want a nice white smile on a perfect face
And some perfect hair that's gonna stay in place
I want a smaller nose and a single chin
And a figure like a perfect ten
I want some kids that never yell and scream
And some hips that fit into designer jeans
I want a brand new house with a heated pool
I can use them, Lord, for a witnessing tool
The best part was the gospel choir in the background belting out, a “never-ending shopping list” during each chorus, and the final, oh so solemn, “Aaaaameeeeeeen,” as if this was the prayer of the Lord’s most humble and devout servants. If I’m being perfectly honest, Babbi Mason’s wish list looks pretty good from where I sit as a 40-year-old mother of two. It’s a far cry from the mature, thoughtful lyrics of Natalie Cole’s My Grown Up Christmas List, but let’s be real: I can’t stop a war or heal broken hearts. I CAN throw on some Crest whitening strips and bronzer lotion.
What would it look like if we, the adults, wrote a Christmas wish list that had no limits? What is it our hearts truly desire this year? I’ve been mulling this over all week, scribbling down ideas for things I’d ask for if I knew I could ask for anything. At first, it started out with things like spa days, all-expenses-paid vacations, and things of that nature. But if I was shooting for the moon, even those kinds of things seemed attainable someday. I turned my eyes from the tangible and thought about the intangible. In the end, it turns out that nothing I came up with is currently on my Amazon wish list. Not because things I wanted were so ostentatious that even Amazon couldn’t deliver them, but because they were things that simply couldn’t be bought. This is my grown-up Christmas list:
1) I wish for energy. I wish for deeper, uninterrupted sleep, free of back pain and stiffness. I wish for self-discipline, to choose hydration over caffeination. I wish for motivation to use what little free time I have to step away from the laptop and get moving.
2) I wish for the gift of time. I wish to learn to carve out moments of peace and presence throughout my day. I wish I would notice the multitude of minutes I’m given and use them to pause, express gratitude, and humble myself before the One who orchestrates them all. I wish I would not miss the moments with my children or my husband that I will never get back.
3) I wish for a home that would grow more beautiful, not because we paint walls, replace furniture or update the landscaping, but because we offer it up to others. I wish for a home that reflects the heart of our family, a heart that is hospitable and open. I wish this new house of ours will hold so much more than our own memories. I wish it becomes a safe haven for the hopes and heartaches of anyone who sits at our table.
4) I wish for growth in my relationships with God, my husband, my children, and my friends. I wish for better listening skills, a deeper sense of empathy, and more genuine compassion for the people I love most. I wish for the eyes to see myself and others the way God does.
5) I wish for peace in my heart. After an emotionally turbulent year full of change and hardship, I wish for relief. I want to breathe easy knowing the shadows are behind us and we are standing rooted in the sunlight. I wish for a sense of security that I haven’t had in years.
In the end, my grown-up Christmas list was really a prayer list. No present under the tree can ever grant these wishes of mine, but God can. He is the giver of good and perfect gifts (James 1:17). He loves me. He delights in showering me with blessings of peace, growth, hospitality, time, and energy. I only need to ask. No request is too far-fetched for Him. He was willing to give His Son as a gift just for me. No one else could ever love me that much. (Not even Santa.) So why not ask?
“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” Philippian 4:6-7