What if at the bottom of it all, at my deepest core, I don’t really care about Jesus. I don’t really want Jesus.
What is wrong in my heart that the greatest gift could become of so little consequence in my estimation? What is wrong in my heart that some new clothes, books, or a device are more appealing to me than Jesus? What is wrong that I could be more excited over birthday and holiday parties to come, over planning for events and chopping down a Christmas tree and decorating the house, over Christmas cards and music, than Christ Himself? What could have caused such a shift that what is priceless and perfection and the answer for my every longing would be lost under the pile of material things? (Things supposedly done in the name of celebration over the Savior’s birth.) That when the words “He is the greatest gift“ are whispered to my soul, my soul isn’t satisfied? Or exhilarated? That I don’t feel much of anything. Maybe it’s just me.
This is why I need Advent this Christmas. This is why I need the journey, the slow and steady and deliberate plodding from the Garden to the Manger to the Cross and the empty Tomb. Because my heart is bent away from God. Because lesser things continually come in and slowly, quietly, choke out the good things. Because I want to see Him again, anew, as the greatest gift, as the best and highest and most precious thing this Christmas season. Because I don’t want to miss Him and I don’t want a Christmas I can buy. Because I want my heart at its core to want Jesus. Because “the greatest gift we can give our great God is to let His love make us glad” (Voskamp, The Greatest Gift).
May He be found anew and treasured more highly than all else!
“We must be sure of the infinite good that is done to us by our Lord Jesus Christ, in order that we may be ravished in love with our God and inflamed with a right affection to obey Him, and keep ourselves strictly in awe of Him.” -John Calvin