Putting Santa in His place

I had a Moment today.  Moment with a capital M. 

Perhaps I should be ashamed to say that I don’t have many of those.  These days I feel like I’m in survival mode rather than growing and reflecting mode.  But today we had a Moment.

The Moment came in the most unexpected of ways, as they usually do.  We were at the grocery store and Catie stopped to put some change in the Salvation Army’s bucket.  The elderly lady accepting the donations let each of the girls take a turn ringing the bell, much to their delight, and they left excitedly chattering about what would be done with the donations.  I was feeling proud of them for their generosity and their kindness, and as any mom will tell you, that’s exactly when it hits.  ‘Pride cometh before the fall’ is never more true than when you’re caught patting yourself on the back for raising awesome little people.

The exact exchange leading up to The Moment escapes me, but it was basically Catie saying something she shouldn’t and me pulling out the tired, “What would Santa think of that?” response. 

For a moment it was a parenting high.  The moments we live for, that make our hearts soar and carry us through the low moments with the memory of how our lessons do get through, at least part of the time.

Annie immediately followed up my lame question with, “More importantly, what would God think?” 

Score!

Someone listens to me!  Someone is learning an important lesson!  The important lesson.  (In spite of my shortcomings, obviously)

But the rug was pulled out from underneath my heart when Catie said, “But Santa is like God, right?”

Ouch.

Just typing it now hurts, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sound of those words.  I don’t want to ever forget the sound of those words.  Painful as they are, they contain a very important lesson.

A lesson that, clearly, I’m falling down on the job.

If you’ve met Annie then you have probably seen that she is a wise old soul.  Her spiritual connection is a constant source of amazement to me.  I don’t know how to describe it other than to tell you that more than once when she has spoken to me, I have felt that I am in the presence of God.  He puts words in her mouth, at the most amazing moments, and in the most amazing ways.  At not yet 7, Annie is a spiritual warrior to be reckoned with, and she inspires me.

She’s also made it too easy for me to ignore the dangers of Santa.

It’s easy for Annie to write a letter to Santa and then write him off, because she knows what Christmas is really about.  There’s never been any harm in Santa because he has been in his proper, heavily shadowed place.  But Catie – not so much.

I thought I was doing everything right.  Ok, not everything.  I’m far from perfect.  But the big things at least.

We go to church on Sundays and Wednesdays, we read the Bible and pray together every day, and we talk about God throughout our days.  The kids can all tell you the Christmas story, and if you ask them what we’re celebrating the first words out of everyone’s mouth will be ’Baby Jesus’ Birthday.’  And yet.

And yet somehow, Santa has crept in. 

It’s my fault – I’ve always been fine with the big guy.  He’s fun!  He’s harmless!  I was never traumatized by him!

Until today.  Today I was.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but time on my knees is definitely in order. 

This wonderful, delightful, excruciating job that I have is the one I’ve dreamed of my whole life.  When my friends picked their majors in college, they were excited about the career in front of them.  I chose English Education, because teaching is a good job for a mom (and anyone who knows me can attest to my appalling lack of mathematical ability) and I didn’t know what else to do.  Emotionally, I floundered in school because my heart wasn’t in it; all I’ve ever wanted to do was be a stay-at-home mom. 

Fast-forward a decade year or two and here I am, living the dream, doing what I know is not always my best, but I’m trying every day to do better.  While not about to win a mother of the year award, I thought I was at least moderately good at this.  But alas, it seems I am failing to impart the one single most important piece of knowledge I can ever teach my children.  I’ve fallen down on the job of spiritual enlightenment.

I’ve allowed Santa to take His place.

I’m glad this Moment happened on December 1st.  It gives me a whole month of opportunity before the big day.  25 days to set the record straight.  25 days to refocus her holiday attentions.  25 days to put Santa back where he belongs.  25 days to make a decision about Christmas Future in our home.

Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy, watch out.  Your positions might not be secure either.