And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus

This season I have been questioning the whole Santa story and in particular have been wary about the intricate deceit that comes with the mythology. And, last night, laying in bed with a four year old all a twitter with expectation, I changed my mind. I rationalize the lie. As with many, many things in parenthood, I see the parallels in our relationship with Christ. We are to wait for His return, for His gifts, with anticipation and definite hope. Ollie knew and hoped for gifts and a good day, and I too, have been promised many things for which I can expect. I am thankful this morning for many, many people and things. Most of all, I am thankful as my youngest prances around in a new red robe, and the oldest is wearing a shield, sword, and helmet while playing with a rocket ship, and the new dog sunbathes by the window as if he has lived here forever, and the husband snores a little on the couch after being awake already at 9am for 4 hours, that my life this morning really resembles those shows from the '50s or '60s with the crew of boys and happy family. As a minister told me this week, "I have never regretted believing in Santa Clause." Feliz Navidad everyone. Picture tomorrow maybe.