When you believe in Santa, how do you pray?

We love Jolly Old Saint Nick, otherwise known as Swieta Mikolaj here in Poland.

We love his red suit, his white beard, his jiggly belly, and his bright smile.

We love the twinkle in his eyes.

And did you know he actually sent us a couple of those elves while we were living in Arizona? Yep! Charleston and Swenson. Oh, they are clever little elves up to lots of good fun.

Today I found them in our Marks and Spencer bag EATING our salt and vinegar chips!

Don’t they know that is a HUGE NO-NO! After all, Poznan is an hour away from where we live. We only get to Marks and Spencer every month or so…And even our two-year-old, Maxwell, LOVES those chips.

Pesky, fun-loving, excitement for the next magical place they will appear, ELVES! I do have a feeling, since our home is heated by coal, that they will wind up in the furnace room—in a pile of coal—before long!

I wonder if this will scare Adelyne, our 8-year-old? Perhaps she’ll think she’s getting put on the naughty list. Sometimes she actually is…but aren’t we all?!

Our son, Maxwell. He’s not sure what to think of our elves. The elves received Oreos the morning St. Nick came and brought goodies for the shoes. And one elf had an Oreo out and was eating it when we must have surprised them. And so his Oreo dropped on the ground.

All Maxwell, the 2-year-old, saw was a perfectly good Oreo lying on the ground. OHHHHHHH! What torture.

He kept trying to grab the cookie. I told him, “No, Maxwell, that cookie does not belong to you.”

It was hilarious. He laid down on the floor with his hand stretched out to the cookie, his fingers merely wisps away from it and just cried, “Cookie! My cookie!” (See above picture for accurate depiction of this story)

Of course, his age has a LOT to do with pretty much everything right now.  But it was a FANTASTIC lesson in “We don’t take what does not belong to us, even if the magical elves will not finish eating it later.”

I must say, (pat-pat-pat on my back) he did not take the cookie.  He practiced self-control.  And that is a HUGE deal, if you have a 2-year-old.  So, these magical elves also help us teach lessons.  Lessons like:  listening to your mom; and practicing self-control.   Well done, C and S (Charleston and Swenson).

And, as much as my daughter (Adelyne the 8-yr-old), LOVES the elves.  She does freak out sometimes.  Like the other day she was downstairs alone, Christmas music was playing, when she heard, in a high-pitched voice, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

Sure enough, at the speed of lightning that we don’t often get to see her travel in, she was up those stairs, in our laps, crying, “Mom!  Did you hear that?  Do you think the elves spoke?  I heard, ‘Merry Christmas!’ in a high and squeaky voice!”

Her dad and I hugged her and said, “Wow!  How exciting!  You heard them speak.  What fun!”

It did little to curb her excitement, and then she refused to go back downstairs and finish her homework.  Perhaps you aren’t laughing—but we were.

The minds of children really are delicate balances of excitement and wonder with the never-ending tier of, whether it is based upon sense or not, “Protect me, please!”

But, before you get worked into a lather, she wrote her elves notes later that night, yes, they write her notes back, and asked if she heard them speak.  They responded, “YES!”  And she was so excited.

So, even in the midst of uncertainty, the child-like joy of the magical remains.  And that is WHY I love living these phases of life with my children.

BUT…

And this is the big BUT.  How do we pray in our home when we so obviously are also in love with the big, red suit and the joys of the magical parts of the Christmas Season?

It’s simple.   Christmas is a glorious season of giving.  And receiving.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with either and something beautiful about both.

Why it’s better to give than receive!  You may say.

Why, yes, the Bible is very clear about that, Acts 20:35,  I respond.  But let us take a moment to look at both!

And that is why I am writing this post.

The GREATEST gift that was ever given to us came as a small child, in a miraculous way, over 2,000 years ago.  You probably have heard the song, “Away in a Manger”.  Well, perhaps I should have said, “In a miraculous way in a manger…”

Anyhow.  We did not deserve this precious gift.  Yet this gift was given.  To me.  The BIGGEST sinner of all.  Really.  You should see me wife-it and parent-it and live-it.  I am a big ol’ failure each and every day.

“Oh, but Brooke, we do see you—you put it on your blog.”

Oh, that’s right.  So you know.

And I will never fail in proclaiming how hard this thing called life is and how grateful I am for the gift of forgiveness and grace.  So grateful.

Therefore, this miraculous gift that was given to us as a baby, so very long ago, remains the GREATEST focus of our home.

How do we do that and love Santa?

It’s easy.  Every night when we pray, we thank the Lord for what he has provided in our lives.  And, just so you know, provisions do not merely mean monetary things.  We are thankful for health and family.  We are thankful for our precious international church and our best friends.  We are thankful for our baby that was taken in pregnancy to heaven (and, yes, we thank God every day for this baby with our children).

And we also thank him for the home he has provided, and our dogs (especially when they foil the plans of robbers).

We thank him for our daughter’s school, and our son’s medicine (our son is a life-survivor).

Josephine!  She’s our last surprise miracle.  We thank God for her chubby goodness.

And we thank God for our marriage (even though the kids are unaware of the depths that have gone into fighting for it).

We thank God each day for so many beautiful things that he has placed in our lives===the men at the New Life Center and the people that give so that these homeless men and former prisons can have new starts to life…

Our lists are long.  We are unendingly (is that a word) THANKFUL!

And, now that the Christmas season is upon us and everywhere you walk you see the Jolly Red Suit, we continue to make an extra effort to remind our children that as much as we love Santa, we love Jesus more.

This is how we end our prayers, “And, Lord, thank you so much for this season of the GREATEST gift of all…your son!  Your son that you gave to us so humbly.  The angels rejoiced and so do we.  Thank you for the gift of Jesus and the life that he lived and the sacrifice he made at the cross and the victory that took place when he conquered death.   It’s because of this gift of Jesus that we know you in such a personal way.”

And two out of 3 say, “Amen!”

But, to be fair, the third is only 10-months-old, so she pretty much only says, “Dadda and Ada” right now.

When they drift into their child-like slumbers, what do they dream?  Well, that is a question for the next morning.  Tucking them in, kissing their faces, and hugging them tight, however, we send them to bed with the reminder of the greatest gift.  And this is the last thing on their hearts before we close the doors, whispering, “Good night!  We love you more than life.”

That’s it.  My friends.

That’s why it is not hard for us to love Santa and yet remain focused on Jesus in our home.  Because, in the end, he’s what matters most.

And, if you think about it, he was a gift.  So, in a way, receiving is also blessed, too.

How about you?  How do you love Santa and keep your family’s focus on Jesus?

***

Here are some other blogs related to Christmas that I have written in the past:

The Christmas Mullet…what a shame!  http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-30

It shares about some of the Polish traditions to Christmas and the very unfortunate incident of my daughter’s personal hair cut.  Which means she personally cut her own hair.  At Christmastime.  Oh, and there is a carp in our bathtub!  Enjoy.

Jesus Good.  Santa Bad? http://wp.me/p3Bh9m-OO

A blog written that questions “Is Santa Bad?”  My look on it in my life.  Enjoy!

AND…Click on any of the above highlighted words in the article to go to a different article regarding the highlighted topic.  Enjoy!

xo always,

b and my crazy gang

Your Christmas Tootsie

I am entering the Christmas season with a new perspective.

And it is one that will never be Tootsie-less.

You see, my only living grandparent just graduated to heaven this past July.

But, technically, she wasn’t just my “only living grandparent” as I wrote. She is the woman that we named our first daughter after—-Marguerite. Known to all as Tootsie.

She passed at 91 years young. With a full heart. And family by her side.

Not me, however, I was a world away. On the last night that I saw her before flying across the continental US and then the Atlantic, I gave her a kiss on her lips, told her to behave, stay out of trouble, and I would see her in 3 years.

I left fully believing I would see her in 3 years—and fully knowing that perhaps I would not see her in 3 years. A conundrum of the worst sorts.

There is not a day that passes that my heart doesn’t skip a beat thinking about our Tootsie.  Beloved, feisty, kind-hearted, slap-happy, Tootsie.

The woman that ate ice cream for breakfast and caramels for dinner.  It’s a true miracle she even lived to see 91 years.

But as Christmas Day approaches, I want to make sure that my life and the lives of my children are never Tootsie-less.  How do I go about that?

In the following ways…

Devotion!

As a child-bride (1 day 15 and married to the same awesome Papa Charlie for 54 years), I want my children to learn devotion.  Ups.  Downs.  All arounds.  Devotion.  You are never too young to learn devotion, commitment, and how to stick to it.

You can be too young, however, to learn how to cook.  Tootsie asked her mom, one time years after she married, “How come Dorothy is a good cook and I am not?”  Dorothy being her sister.  And her mom answered, “Well, you never stuck around long enough to learn.” Tootsie said after that answer she stopped asking her mom probing questions.

How else do I want to ensure my children live Tootsie-full lives?

By dancing in the barn!  

When my grandma and I were in New Zealand together (yep, she took me to New Zealand with her), we were talking about her life.  She said one of her favorite things to do with Papa Charlie was go down by the border (she lived on the border of Mexico) and go barn dancing.  And then she picked up her pants a little and showed me her footwork.

You know, my Papa always whistled at those legs of hers—and I know why.  Even as she aged, they were hot stuff.

Where am I going with this?  In life, take moments to run to the border and dance in the barn!  Take moments to have fun.  Take moments to embrace the one you love and let him whistle at your legs.  Take moments where you make moments and turn them into life-long love memories.

Yep.  I want my children to one day, with the ones that they love, to dance in the barn!

Eat Dessert First!

Now, do my kids actually get to eat dessert first every morning?  No!  But I have taken to getting them donuts for each Thursdays breakfast.  And they are thrilled.

You may say, “Sugar kills!”

But so do cars.  So do storms.  So do viruses.

There is a lot out there that can end your life.  Sugar being one of them.

But Tootsie lived 91 years strong (only weeks away from 92), and she had the sweetest 4 teeth known to man.  Yep.  4 remaining teeth.  She did have dentures, but she didn’t find them comfortable.  And so, with her 4 remaining teeth, we would always say, “Smile, Tootsie!”  And then she would laugh and laugh and laugh!

You know, in our household, we are all for eating well.  But, and I’ll paraphrase Cheaper by the Dozen II, when the mom of the dozen runs into the mom of her husband’s rival family, “You need a little sugar in your shopping cart!”

I agree and believe it’s true.

Life should include the sweet.  Even if it means eating dessert first.  Tootsie-style!

And, finally, Live in love with life.  Live in love with the Lord!

When I was in the 3rd grade, and we were in the mountains for Christmas as a family, Santa showed up at our door.  He was short and rosy-cheeked and stuffed with all sorts of goodness.  Unfortunately, Tootsie wasn’t there to see him, but we did, and we told her all about him when she got back from her errand.  And she relished the moments of our excitement and stories, with rosy cheeks of her own.

And even though she loved living with us in our hearts and minds of excitement, she never failed to praise God for his goodness—even in the silliest of moments—like winning in dominoes!  Although, in our home, that’s quite a serious moment, too.  Any domino game (smile and wink for all competitive families out there).

You see, she was a top-grandma…Teaching us to fish in the rain barrel, watching Papa chop the head off of a rattlesnake, allowing us to raid her closet-putting on her shoes, bras, and makeup, or teaching us how to make porcelain dolls.

But she lived her life devoted to her husband, her children, and her God.

Her God that got her through the death of two of her infant baby boys.  The death of her husband.  And then the death of her adult son.

Tootsie lived life encouraging our childhood imaginations and joys—but Tootsie lived life more by encouraging our devotion to God, teaching us, “God remains your constant.  So, go out and continue living!”

And with a mighty slap on the shoulder, coming from a petite figure, you would know that Tootsie meant it.

Live life with God as your constant, and go out and continue living!  And let your children invade your closet.  But NEVER lose in dominoes!  And I mean Never.  Oh, and cheer for the Arizona Diamondbacks!  Always.

You know, Christmas will bring with it many beautiful gifts, all glowing warmly beneath the evergreen tree.  But I hope this Christmas to give my kids the greatest gift.  A Tootsie Christmas. One where I teach them:  Devotion; Dancing in the barn; Eating dessert first; Living in love with life and living life for God.

For those are truly gifts that will last.

Just like my memories of Tootsie.

Now, tell me.  What about you?  What lasting gifts can you give your children this Christmas?

Jesus good! Santa bad?

There is a Christmas song and it sings, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year…”

I couldn’t agree MORE!

I love Christmas.  I am like ELF (you know the one I speak of…).  “SANTA!  I know him!”

I love the Christmas trees, Christmas lights, Christmas decorations, I love the Advent calendars, Christmas Eve services, and the constant caroling through the speakers on the radio…

I love the cookies, the cookie exchanges, the neighborly cookie gifts, and the Christmas parties galore!

I love the giving, giving, giving spirits of people all around me.  I love the sparkling eyes of those that receive.

I love the Polar Express and the “trip” to the North Pole.

I love the letters to Santa…

And I LOVE Elf on the Shelf (even though ours are elves from different shelves).

But it’s funny…people are raised and brought up in many, many ways.  Totally okay, folks.  No problem here. The problem I have is when people feel bad for being Santa fans because they love Jesus and they think both cannot exist together.

Totally breaks my heart.

Let me break it down for you…My mom—raised with Santa.  Cool.  My dad and his sisters—raised only with the “Hope that St. Nick would soon be there.”  Noses pressed up against the window, believing in their hearts he would stop by…even though his existence was neither confirmed nor denied by his parents.

Then my mom and dad had kids and BOY did they have fun.  One year, Santa’s reindeer even left a barnyard mess on top of our roof!  We all climbed the ladder to the roof and witnessed that Santa’s reindeer were totally on top of our roof by the “deposits” they made!

Other years, we heard the bells outside…And, other times, Santa even stopped by on Christmas Eve, with his busy schedule and all, to give us a hug and a reminder to be good little girls and boys.

Let’s not forget The Evening News…The News always tracked Santa’s sleigh.  And our eyes would be glued on the map of the world and where Santa was nearing next…

Santa Mouse always left presents in the tree.

And Christmas morning was a magical experience, walking into the room and seeing the twinkling lights, the ornate tree, the stuffed stocking, and the presents with our names spelled out correctly on them!

Our parents never failed to tell us that Santa loved us very much.

Can you tell that I’m a HUGE Santa fan?!  Huge.  I really do give Will Ferrell an ELF-SIZED run for his money.  Hand over those tights and that hat, Ferrell.  Now!

But let me say this…as exciting and magical and lovely as Santa is in our home, our children (more appropriately our daughter since our little man is only 1) have never forgotten or failed to celebrate Christ as the Reason for the Season.

You see…It’s okay, folks, to love Jesus and raise your children to also love Santa.

Because, when it comes down to it, they know—they know that Santa loves them and gives them gifts.

But Jesus loves them and gives them life!

There is a big difference between a Barbie Car and the opportunity to know, talk to, and walk with Jesus.

It’s huge…Not even Santa’s sleigh can compare with that.

And so, we, in our happy and cozy household, love Santa—but we, in our happy and cozy household, serve Jesus.

I saw and understood that even as the tiniest of a mere child…just like our daughter sees and understands that today.

So, Jesus lovers…If you somehow feel “guilt” over the excitement of Santa in your home, stop.  Give yourself a break.

Because, truly, as long as your family loves Jesus, your children will always know…A Barbie car does not compare to Jesus the real Star!

Now, go and enjoy your holiday…in the holiday spirit that you choose.

Santa—a-okay!

No Santa—it’s not the end of the day!

Jesus—all the way!

Merry upcoming Christmas, my friends.  I can’t wait to see and hear all about your holidays!

With a love for Jingle Bells,

Brooke

(aka the next ELF!  Hollywood, give me a call.  I’m ready!)

The Day that Santa Died…

This is going to go in a completely different direction than you may imagine…You see, Santa was not really Santa but a homeless man that we served for years at our soup kitchen, Holy Start, in the city of Poznan, Poland.  We all called him Santa.  He loved it.

And this is what he looked like:

His name was Wojtek.

And I loved him.

Not because he was perfect.  In fact, there were times he was outright obnoxious.  And there were a couple times where we packed his food for him and told him he had to leave.  Not hungry.  But leave the same.  Because when you are trying to serve many and there are some that make commotions, this is just the way it works.

And he would leave…But the next week he would always be back.  Sober.  In time for breakfast.  And happy to be back amongst us.

You see, Wojtek was like many, many, many that we serve in Poland.

Homeless.  Alcoholics.  Lost.  And alone.

And as difficult as they may sometimes be—they could also be beautiful.

Yes.  Wojtek made a choice.  And that choice was alcohol.  And then alcohol made a mark.  And Wojtek had a hard time overcoming.

And no matter what offers of help we made.  No matter how much prayer.  No matter how much was shared about how much God loves and believes in him.  Wojtek let alcohol do the talking…do the thinking…do the walking in his life.

And one day—one day far too soon—we lost him.

He went to sleep near the lake in the summer, when the weather was fine, and never woke up.

And from the moment I heard that at the soup kitchen, my heart broke.

It broke because I knew that Wojtek was so special.

I knew that Wojtek had so much he could offer.

I knew that God made Wojtek unlike any other out there…And, yet, Wojtek never beat the beast.

He never kicked the habit.

He was never victorious.  He was the constant slave.  And his owner, Alcohol, beat him down and won.  He took his life.

Wojtek died without giving God the chance to help him change his life.

And it broke my heart.

I still think of Wojtek and I love looking at his picture-doesn’t his face tell a million tales?  Don’t his eyes hide beauty?  Don’t you love the man you see?

And yet I still look with sadness.

Because Wojtek is no more.

Wojtek is not the first person we’ve lost to the harsh realities of addiction or homelessness.  And he won’t be last.

But he will always remain a sad reminder to me that deep in the inner man of who he, Wojtek, is-God had created someone for so much more.

I am not sure if you have a family member or perhaps a friend that battles with addictions.  If so, I know with all that you are you love them.  And you care.

God does too.

I pray for yours.  May they not die like Santa.  May they come to see the demon that wants to enslave, get the help they need, and beat that sucker down.

May victory come in morning.

God bless you, friends!

***

Update:  I know that it is not only the homeless that have problems with addictions.  But what I do know about addictions is that IF the person fighting this demon does not want to get help, there is little anyone can do but hold onto hope and PRAY!

We all saw this past summer as someone rich and famous passed away because he could not overcome his own demons.  Cory Monteith…So, friends, let us never say, “Oh, that will never happen to me!”  Because addiction has no socioeconomic barrier.  An addiction is an addiction.  And all need to be addressed, receive help, and by the grace of God conquered.

In Poland we offer help to all that come to us through two different outside programs that we partner with:  Monar, Teen Challenge.  There is also Alcoholics Anonymous and our very own New Life Center.  All centers and programs are there for the benefit of the individuals—to help them receive hope and freedom.  And in Kalisz, Poland, there is also counseling through our foundation for the entire family.  Addiction does not just impact the addict—it impacts the entire family, too.

So, if you have a loved one—or if you are that person—fight hard, hold onto hope, offer help (or receive it if you are the one in need of help), and continue to pray hard.  May your belief, although very difficult at times, be unwavering.

Again…God bless, friends!  I know addiction is the battle for someone’s life…And that person is greatly loved by God and by you.

Related articles

• Cory Monteith Official Cause Of Death: Heroin And Alcohol (radaronline.com)