Yeah, I know. I said I would post last night and I didn’t. We live in a litigious society – sue me.

Let me just say, upfront, that I know everyone has their own way of thinking when it comes to faith practices, zeal, holiday observances, etc. Just because I have some pet peeves does not mean that I judge myself to be more “right” in these matters than anyone else.

I do love the Christmas season. I love the reason we celebrate it and my feelings on the miracle of Jesus Christ are too many to confine to one blog post.

I do not, however, believe that I have to wear a sweater proclaiming MERRY CHRISTMAS and earrings that depict manger scenes while cheerily shouting, “Jesus is the reason for the season!” at each passerby for the entire season of Advent. That would not make me more Christian, would it?

Does it mean that I am anti-Christmas, or even anti-Christian, if I recognize the significance and validity of Hannukah? Nope. I still love and serve my Savior.

So, then why do we expect retail stores to dress their employees like shepherds and wise men and proclaim the Good News from behind the cash register? Why would we assume that saying “Happy Holidays” means that an establishment is anti-Jesus and needs to be boycotted? Um, self-righteous, much?

The other point of the article is that if you’re making Christmas about your experience in a retail store, you’re missing the point. It’s not about that. Christmas has absolutely nothing to do with what you buy in a store. It’s not about what the cashier in the store says to you as you finish making your purchases and walk out the door. It’s not about how much you spend or how many gifts you give to which person. If you think it is, YOU’RE MISSING THE POINT!

It’s about peace and the child who came to bring peace. It’s about love and the child who was born to teach us to love. It’s about hope and the child who was born to bring us hope. It’s about forgiveness and the child who was born to teach us the ultimate lesson in forgiveness.

It’s about the baby who was born in the dirty, mucky barn and grew to be a carpenter, just like his earthly father. He was never wealthy and it never mattered to him how many brightly wrapped trinkets people gave him. That’s not love.

He is love.

I borrowed this link from a friend’s Facebook page because I knew she wouldn’t mind.