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Thursday, December 24, 2009

Merry Christmas! Sanborn Family Musings...

If you are looking for a truly thoughtful, spiritual, and eclectic post on the true meaning of Christmas you should go to Dan Philip's blog called Biblical Christianity here:
Biblical Christianity

I could not possibly do a better job than he does.





Instead, I am going to reminisce about Christmases past. I wish I had more photos to post, but my mom has all the old ones from my childhood.

I grew up in a family that was lower middle class, and we were downright poor when I was very young. Yet, my parents always sacrificed at Christmas time. There were always plenty of nice presents under the tree. Thanks Mom and Dad.

I believed in Santa as a kid. I was also an annoyingly observant kid. One year, I pointed out to my mom that she and Santa use the same kind of wrapping paper. After that year, she was always careful to use two different types of paper... some from Santa, and some form Mom and Dad... she disguised her handwriting, too.



When I was 6, we (my little brother and I) had a good haul. We loved He-man and the Masters of the Universe action figures and we scored plenty. Christmas afternoon the new toys were laying on the floor and I stomped on a couple on my way out of the room. My mom chided me gently, to which I replied (again at 6 years old), "Ah, what do you care, you didn't buy them. Besides, they prolly only cost a buck-fifty." That got her ire up and she promptly sat me down and told me that she DID buy them and they cost five dollars, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. No Santa? I was crushed... but deserved it. I went in my room and laid on the bed for about an hour (my mom says). I came out and looked at my mom serious as a heart attack and said, "I understand about Santa, mom, but what about the Easter Bunny, is he just a big fake, too?" "Yes," was her reply and then she swore me to secrecy (I have a younger brother). Apparently it takes an hour to connect the dots when you're six. (And the tooth fairy had not entered the equation yet, being a lower class mythical figure).

On year (about 1985) we moved into a new, much bigger house, that my dad had built mostly himself, in a fairly secluded wooded area. That Christmas we really got a lot of G.I. Joe toys. I am serious. A LOT! and my aunt who lives in Texas sent us camoflage clothes (BDUs) and Army MREs (field food). We thought we were soldiers in our camo out in the woods eating army food for lunch. It wouldn't have been the same without my brother. And today, he is a soldier.

My brother, Tait, and I used to be up really early on Christmas Morning. I am talking like 12:30 a.m. It was always my fault. I would try to go to sleep (and I would), but I would wake up at midnight, go out and see all of the presents under the tree and be too excited to go back to sleep. Then I would wake up Tait. He was never very happy about that. But once he was up, we had a good time. My parents always said we could open the stockings whenever we woke up (but touch nothing else, of course). We would find cans of Pringles chips, Slim Jim beef jerky, mixed nuts, and assorted chocolates. We would feast, play games (usually cards), and talk. One year, when Tait was about 6-7, I spilled my guts on the Santa issue. His reply was in typical (analytical) Tait fashion, "I thought so". Apparently, by first grade guys at school start to talk about what they know. Another year, when we were a good bit older, I shared what I knew about the "birds and the bees." Awkward! Sorry Tait.

One tradition we had was that Mom would always read us the "Night Before Christmas," and "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" (yes, it was a book before Jim Carey got a hold of it) while lying under the Christmas tree. That was always a special time, and I think we kept doing it long after the books became too young to us.

One thing that makes all of this more meaningful is something my Dad did one summer. He had the courage to leave the Catholic Church he (and we) grew up in, and took us to a little Bible church where the true Biblical Gospel was preached. If you aren't Catholic, or if you don't know Catholics, then you won't realize why I say this took true courage. Being in a Catholic family is almost like being in a Mafia family. You don't leave the Catholic Church, and if you do you risk being shunned by the family. Okay, it's not that bad, but not good either. Anyway, we all heard that good news that Jesus is God who became man, and that our sin is offensive to Him. NO works can satisfy God (whew! that is good news to a Catholic), but rather repentance and faith are needed and Jesus accomplished all of the work on the Cross. That was truly a great Christmas present Dad brought us to church to receive one Summer.

My family adopted a little girl (Amanda, age 3) when I was 13. She had a rough life up to that point and watching her excitement in her new life was a joy for all of us. She still is a joy. We love you Amanda (Now 23 and the favorite Aunt in this pic)!

In 2001, on December 23, Sarah Joyce Steinorth accepted my proposal for marriage. We ate at Victoria and Albert's at the Grand Floridian Hotel at Walt Disney World. This was/is the only true Five-Star meal I have ever eaten. I was so nervous that night I can't remember much about it. It was, and is still, one of the best nights of my life. Aside from Jesus's birth, life, death, and resurrection for my sins, Sarah is the best Christmas gift I've ever received.

In 2004, another summer gift, Jackson Curtis, came boldly in to our lives. On Christmas Eve he was exactly six months old and we were starting to get the hang of parenting. I was so excited to be a daddy, and to have a boy, that I went out and bought my six month old son a giant red fire truck. He still has it.




Christmas 2005, Sarah was 2 weeks away from delivering Hannah Joyce into the world. Typical of my precocious little daughter, she was late for Christmas, but came at her own sweet time.






Tomorrow, I will watch my own two children open gifts. I wonder if they will bond in the night-time while their mom and I sleep, unaware. I am thrilled that Jackson has put trust in the Savior, and reminds himself (and us) regularly that Christmas is not about presents, but Jesus' birthday. I continue to pray that Hannah will come to Jesus soon, too. I'll sit back and wonder at how quickly it seems to have all come full circle. I'll blink, and I'll be watching grandbabies open gifts.


Jesus truly is the greatest gift of all for those who repent of sin and trust in Him alone for the forgiveness of sin. If that was all we had, we would be truly blessed. God has been so gracious in lavishing so much more on all of us. May we remember to worship Him as we enjoy what He has given. Merry Christmas!

1 comments:

Rob Peck said...

Thanks for sharing a bit of your life with us here in blog world. I was always the early riser in my family too, only I could never get anyone else up to stare at all those presents with me! I still get excited and am usually the first one up. Too excited to sleep. The only difference is that I am now excited to see the faces others light up.

I too am thankful the this great gift that is Jesus. Let us never forget. Let us never soften the truth. Let us live for the Man, the King, the Savior.

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