. . . and then some more . . . More life. More Jesus.

The Real Christmas Dream


I wasn’t sure when I grabbed it off the buffet table that morning at my daughter’s class party. I decided to try.

Sesame-seed-topped feta-cheese-filled Turkish doughiness from Ismael’s mom. She’s from Turkey.

I’d never tasted anything like it. And I would likely never taste anything like it again. So I enjoyed every bite of that unknown deliciousness. Savored the foreign flavor while it was mine to be had. Before it was gone from my life forever.

The party activities began soon after, but there was plenty of Turkish amazingness left for me to eat another. Which was awesome.

Even though I was full, I could certainly make room for more.

I knew I shouldn’t eat it because this was something I needed to conquer.

For reasons that had to do with the real life I told Jesus I wanted to live, I could not let the temptation to overeat sneak in and steal the true satisfied that has nothing to do with feta-cheese or Turkish doughiness.

It’s a physical temptation that has become spiritual, too. As in, I don’t need more, but I crave the flavor of amazing. I love to fill my belly with delicious. I cannot get enough when something is good.

So I sat there convincing myself I didn’t need more of the Turkish awesomeness. Like a cartoon with a little me on one shoulder, clad in white, halo shining. The devil version of myself on the opposite shoulder trying to justify the one little piece I did not need.

I would have experienced no immediate consequence had I taken another piece. No lightning strike for not heeding God’s wisdom that reminded me

one portion of His great is way better than two portions of just good.

But it was the principle at stake. The chiseling away, one tiny piece at a time, of the foundation of wisdom about my appetite for what is good.

You see, my taste is flawed. My taste for what is excellent. What’s worth chasing after. What’s worth filling myself with. What’s worth spending my time on. My money. My energy. It happens at Christmastime. It happens all year.

So often I let the pull of the momentary good pull me away from the focus of what is worthy. What is better. The truly amazing that God wants to watch me chow down abundantly.

It’s the real and living water Jesus offered to the woman He ran into in Samaria. Better than pretend-intimacy with men and their empty promises. More filling than the satisfaction of knowing she’d landed herself a man with a name.  Longer-lasting than the few nights she shared with each one of them.

Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again . . . (v13)

The real life Jesus came for is deeper than the cozy fire and the beautiful bows and the super yummy Christmas cookie Yankee Candle I just bought. It’s even better than the ipad mini I hope I get. (But know I will not.)

That Samaritan woman had been drinking from the wrong well just like I do. She kept coming back to the water that did not quench her true thirst. Her method of quenching looked much different than mine. But make no mistake, we both got it wrong.

Maybe you’ve had it wrong too. We keep looking for more of what will not satisfy rather than taking the only thing we will never need more of. Especially at Christmas, when there’s so much to consume. So many treats to behold.

Perhaps you’re like me, and you want the real dream of Christmas. Want to shake up the Christmas dream and go back to the One Who has always held real life, even in teeny tiny little hands swaddled in Mary’s clothes.

Let’s remember together the real dream of Christmas. The reason the angels exploded at the first mention of His arrival.

Question: What have you found to be helpful to keep yourself focused on what’s real at Christmastime?


What do you say?

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