Imposter

Santa had planted himself right next to the bar and was acting very un-Santa like. He wasn't hohohoing at all, and he was waving at people a little tipsily. His pillow belly was slowly shifting and he was making no attempts to prod it to its proper position.
"And what is Santa doing here at an adult Christmas party? " I asked Arvo, "There is something odd about Santa."

I watched Santa at various points of the night, when I wasn't cramming my face full of shrimp, wild mushroom ravioli, and pecan encrusted chicken. I love Christmas parties! And it had even begun to snow a little today. Not for long and it didn't stick, but it was definitely Christmas cold and Christmasy feeling.

Except for Santa. He hovered on the sidelines, rocking a little on his toes and then surreptitiously sneaking another drink from the open bar. When I wasn't watching Santa, I checked out what the other ladies were wearing. Some had full length gowns, so I probably didn't need to cut off my velvet dress to tea length, but now it is more adaptable for other activities like walking the dog.  One lady had a full sequined dress, but she really should have talked to my sister before accessorizing it. She wore a dowdy black cardigan with it. She would never have escaped the house if Holly had been around to advise her. I was center of the road as far as attire, and my feet were killing me, as they always do unless I am wearing sneakers.

The boss finally worked his way over to us and we all exchanged the usual pleasantries and then silence fell, and our eyes all hovered over to Santa, who was now tapping his fingers a little and waving his arms over his head in beat to the music.

"I don't know where Santa came from," admitted the boss,"We didn't hire him. He appears to just have wandered in and planted himself by the bar."

So Santa was an imposter! Maybe some enterprising homeless man who figured out the no one dares kick Santa out of holiday parties. A clever way to get food, drink, and warmth for little investment!

I have always considered Santa an imposter, an interloper, a spoiler who comes in and tries to grab the real magic of Christmas from the hearts and minds of our children. I am one of those Grinches who never taught my children about Santa, and never pretended Santa bought gifts. I felt the miracle of Christ born a human to show us the way back to a right relationship with our God was a far more wondrous idea than a fat man riding a sleigh filled with toys pulled by flying reindeer. I remember one day when Anders was very young when he was asking me about the meaning of Christmas. He had heard friends talking about Santa and was curious.... was Santa real? And just what was Santa supposedly responsible for anyway? So I told him all the beliefs about Santa, and he listened nodding. Sounded plausible to him.
Then I told him the real Christmas story, how Jesus was born in a manger, a baby who was born so that He would grow to challenge us to understand how our damaged souls longed for a right relationship with God. But no matter how hard we tried, we could never obey God, just like no matter how hard he tried, he could never perfectly obey me. (he nodded, here.) But all we had to do was trust that Jesus had come to let God punish Him instead of us, so that we could stand before God as though we were perfect, clean, and righteous. It was as though when Anders faced punishment which he rightfully deserved, his brother Matthias stepped in and said, "I know justice requires retribution.... so punish me instead."  All Anders had to do was acknowledge that Matthias had done this wondrous thing, and accept it, and say Thankyou.

The boy who had nodded that he could see how people could believe in flying reindeer, a sleigh that could fit toys for every child in the whole world, and a man that could slide down chimneys to deliver them, now looked at me with wonder as I finished telling him the REAL Christmas story.
"NAH!!!" he said, thinking I was joking.
And that's why we never celebrated Santa.

As we headed away from the loud music and the swaying Santa, and walked down the long festive corridor of the hotel... I noticed a little manger scene. It was in a dark corner, not fully assembled, small, and unnoticed. The glitzy celebration roared behind me, but I looked at the little manger scene and felt the awe I always feel that something so small, so insignificant, so helpless as a tiny baby could become the most pivotal event of my life and so many people leave it in a dusty, unnoticed corner.

Psalm 4: 2-3
 ² How long will you people turn my glory into shame?
   How long will you love delusions and seek false gods^[b]?^[c]
3 Know that the LORD has set apart his faithful servant for himself;
   the LORD hears when I call to him.

Full Circle

"I am tempted to wear the fish dress," I told my sisters, "Though do you think I will need something other than running shoes for a semi-formal event?" My memory stretched back to a year ago, when a shockingly similar scenario was snapping at my shoes. (Alliteration is a dangerous weapon in the hands of an amateur.)

Today is the one year anniversary of my quest to post a message from God every morning. I did it. I didn't miss a single day, though some posts were delayed til I could find internet zones. Through sleet, or snow, or hail, or rain, I delivered the packages of hope, encouragement, and laughter that God handed me all neatly tied up with a heavenly strand of love. I had started the blog because an editor wanted me to show I could develop a following, a readership, that would bode well for him taking a chance on a nobody's book. (That agent is still considering my book now that it has gone through a year of revisions. Publishing is not for the lazy.) But pretty soon, I was writing for a different reason. Emails started trickling in from readers who found that my struggles and bits of comfort that God threw my way were helping them in similar struggles. Who knew there was anyone out there as messed up as me?

A year ago, as I started to chronicle my life, I had a toenail ripped off my big toe, and had to find shoes for my husband's semi-formal Christmas party. I never found any that didn't cause excruciating pain, and settled on boots in the end. Most of that evening, I had my boots off and my foot elevated.

This year, I have a broken little toe that xrays show as healed, but the pain and swelling remain. As I was pulling out some very fancy dresses my sister Amy sent me years ago which I have never had anything formal enough to wear to, I realized I might have to wear footwear other than sneakers.

The "fish" dress is sequined from head to toe, and subtlety was not what the famous designer was going for. The dress had to have been a near $1000 dress when it was fresh off the rack. My sister Amy is the uber-shopper, finding incredible deals along off-beaten paths, and we are often the recipients of her finds. I am small, so not a middle size that gets snatched up, and so the gorgeous fish dress has hung in my closet for three or four years now, awaiting an event where loud screaming attire is called for.  She also sent a full length green velvet gown, that is exquisite and feels like warm butter poured gently over every pore of my dried rhinoceros skin. I love it, but again..... where does one wear such a dress? Not to clean the toilets, I am pretty sure.

Did I dare to wear either one to the xmas dinner/party?  I put each dress on, and pulled out a lovely fairly low heeled metallic silver sandal I had bought only 10 months early for my son's wedding. They hurt just a little, which in the fancy shoe world is saying a lot. Then I had Asherel take my picture in each and sent it to my sisters and fashion advisers, Holly and Amy.

"Which should I wear to the xmas party?" I queried, "And answer fast- the party is Saturday night."
Amy voted instantly for the fish dress, "When else are you ever going to wear it?"
Now by this logic, if she sends me a full scuba diving outfit, I will have to wear it to the party next year cause I assure you I am not ever going to go scuba diving where sharks and blue ringed octopus prowl.
"How loud are the scales...er sequins?" asked Holly.
"Loud," I answered.
"Well you CANNOT wear those sandals with the fish dress. Too much! You need understated black strappy things with high heels."
"I can't go buy more shoes," I said, "And I can't wear my high heeled black shoes. My broken toe is in agony in those shoes."
"Well," she countered,"My vote is for the green velvet, but it is formal. If this is a semi-formal event, you will be overdressed."
"Well won't my sneakers bring the total formal quotient down to semi-formal?" I asked.
"You need to find a friend to cut off the hem to tea length. Hurry, you still have hours!"

I considered all the advice I was receiving. On one hand, I was with Amy- the fish dress was gorgeous. If I were a fish, for sure I would be comfortable wearing it. Or perhaps if I ever win Novelist of the Year award, but first I probably have to publish a novel.  So, when will I ever wear it?

But the velvet dress was gorgeous too, and I am a seamstress at least as accomplished as I am a helicopter builder. I could cut it and hem it to tea length. It was almost dinner time, so I grabbed scissors and eyeballed where I needed to hem it. How hard could this be? I hacked off six inches, hemmed it, and was astonished to find that the hem was even and straight, and now the dress fit the semi-formal category. The silver shoes were perfect with it. I hung the fish dress back at the far edge of my closet.
"Look," I consoled the dress, "Your day will come. When my book gets published and I win all the awards, you are my go-to dress."


A year ago, I think my message over my fashion/shoe woes was along the lines of God accepts all of us no matter what we wear. But I think He is pointing me in a new direction.  The dress choice really was unimportant.... I was just baiting my sisters so I could exchange emails, and laugh, and remember that when we take life too seriously, it loses its sparkle.....its sequins fall off. Most of what I have found to write about over the past year are not the unusual or amazing things that happen in life.... because rarely do either of those occur to me. What I love to write about are the funny things, the moments of laughter that are always lurking even on the edges of despair. I am blessed to have sisters and parents and family and friends that laugh with me.  God's greatest gift to us is Salvation, but I think His second greatest is laughter.

Job 29:23-25 (New International Version, ©2010)

²³ They waited for me as for showers
   and drank in my words as the spring rain.
²⁴ When I smiled at them, they scarcely believed it;
   the light of my face was precious to them.