“And when they had opened their treasures, they presented gifts to Him: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” Matthew 2:11 [NKJV]
Christmas is only a few weeks away so I’m getting wish lists from my children and grandchildren. I always know what my husband wants: cold hard cash or a gift certificate from his favorite train store. He has a model train hobby and needs endless cash to sustain it. But this year I might divert and surprise him with something romantic and sentimental.
I’m going way back in my memories today to a certain Christmas in my childhood. I was in grade three and a mere eight years old. I don’t remember which present lay under the tree for me or what I opened Christmas morning but I know I got what I was hoping for.
That was the Christmas I got my mom back.
My mother had been very, very sick. I was sure she was going to die. I heard whispers in church at prayer meeting. I saw the ladies’ pitying looks as they tried to smile at me. Men got up in church and prayed long prayers asking God to spare my mom and make her well.
I didn’t know why my mom was in the hospital. At first I thought she was having another baby but my older sisters assured me it wasn’t so. At home my older siblings and Dad talked quietly not wanting to worry us younger children.
So I prayed. I too asked God to heal my mom and bring her home for Christmas. My family was large. I had thirteen brothers and sisters.
A year or two ago another large family in our church had lost their mom. She died. Their father remarried so the children now had a new mom. I did not want a new mom. I loved my mom. I made all kind of promises to God – good Christian things I would do if only He would bring my mom back home to me from the hospital.
And God did bring my mom home for Christmas but only for a couple of days and then she had to go back for surgery.
But that was enough for me.
As I embraced her I was comforted and was able to let her go again. I believed that because she had been gone once and came back she would come back next time also. I was right. She became even sicker than before but she had her surgery. God healed her and many weeks later she came home to stay. God heard my prayer.
When I think of the wise men laying their treasure of gold and perfumes at Jesus feet that first Christmas season I join with them in adoration.
But that Christmas when I was eight all the wealthy material treasures that the richest kings could have laid at Jesus feet could not have compared to the treasure He gave me – my mother.
This Christmas, I encourage you to remember the special gifts Jesus has given you.