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Deepertruth Member Mike Sheeran


A Letter to Santa 2021



December 23, 2021


Dear Santa,


You might find it a bit unusual getting a letter from me after all these years. But I’ve got a real favor to ask.


Every year you sort of sneak up on us a bit earlier. Your bearded face and little round belly send millions of us headed for the nearest shopping mall in search of Christmas. Even before Thanksgiving, finding a parking place at the mall is the latest assignment for Mr. Phelps and the Mission Impossible crew. And the store owners just love it.


You and that reindeer with the light bulb have become more a part of Christmas than anything. Kids look to the north every Christmas eve to see your coming. These days, you might see other parts of the season, but unless Santa is there—you can forget it. It’s as though you are the author of Christmas, and every other part of this season must acknowledge your authorship.


My unusual request is this. Please stay home. I’m sure Mrs. Claus and the kids probably miss you. And I know they’d appreciate just one Christmas with you at home. And I’m sure they’ll give you lots more than milk and cookies.

You see, Santa, if you stay home, the rest of us just might have time to take a breather. What with relatives, friends, wassail, Christmas cookies, and that tree in the living room, not to mention the stockings hung by the chimney with care. Quite frankly, Mr. C, you’re a lot of work.


And all that work makes us hurry and scurry through this holiday season without even a clue to what it all means. O, I know, the retailers will probably tell us the same thing you do, that the spirit of Christmas is the spirit of giving and all that. Well, close, sir, but no cigar. The spirit of giving is important, but it shrinks to nothing if we forget the greatest Giver there is.


You see, Mr. C, when you come around people are never fully satisfied. Take computers for instance. The guy with 16 megs wants you to put 32 under his tree. And the guy with 32 wants 64. And then there are hard drives, CD-ROM’s, ZIP drives, not to mention big screen TV to watch that garbage some call entertainment, and, well, the list just goes on and on.


And then there’s Barbie and that whole trip. Not to mention the latest blow ‘em up video game. Some say it’s a rehearsal for the next school shooting. And the fights in the stores when the merchandise runs short. And this thing called Covid 19, could you take it away, Santa? Oh. I see. You can’t do that.

After a while you learn that when you think you’re where it’s at—you find you’re where it was. By this time, folks are probably thinking, “If this is Christmas and Christmas is supposed to make the world go ‘round, stop the world, I want to get off.


And you know, Santa, a number of people do. More people try to destroy themselves over depression during the holidays than at any other time of the year.


But all that hustle and bustle isn’t Christmas.


Mr. C, with all due respect, you need to take a back seat to the World’s greatest Giver. You’ll find Him quite awesome.


First, He had the most beautiful palace in the universe to call home. He ruled it all. Yet He traded the regal robes of a king for the swaddling clothes of poverty. He traded the glories of royalty

for the stinking smell of a stable. He exchanged the most comfortable bed in existence for the harsh straw in a feed trough for animals.


But He wasn’t through exchanging gifts either. He traded being waited on hand and foot to washing the feet of 12 lowly, illiterate fishermen; the adoration of angels for the worship of simple shepherds, and the worship of Seraphim for the repentant tears of a prostitute.


He would trade the adoration of heaven for rejection by a mob; a heavenly scepter for a purple robe, the Eternal Word for silence before a governor hearing His case—a case based upon trumped up charges.


He gave away the most comfortable and highest throne for the nails in His hands and feet; the love of His Father for the jeers of the mob; and the authorship of life to the ignominy of death.


But He still wasn’t through. Within three days He made another trade—a borrowed tomb for a resurrected Life!


Today, He offers another trade—our sin-stained life for His whiter-than-snow righteousness. And, His greatest gift, ours for the asking, His Real Presence with us. If you think you can match that Giver, Santa, you haven’t got a prayer.


So please stay home. Enjoy the holidays with Mrs. C and the kids—and let the world find Christmas—for real.



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