The forgotten Elf

Christmas can be stressful on so many different levels! Right now, I am wondering why on earth I ever allowed myself to get sucked into the "Elf on the Shelf" mania. If you have children under the age of 13 you probably know what I'm talking about. If not, be thankful. Okay, okay, I know I am a major scrooge here, but that blasted little red elf just adds a new layer of stress in our home. In case you are ignorant of the elf, here's a crash course: the Elf on the Shelf comes with a little book (which we have, of course, lost). Each night the elf moves around to a different part of the house. This is because he travels back to the North Pole each night to report to Santa on your child's behavior. And then he returns to a different part of the house--again, creepily, to watch your behavior and report back. If I didn't know better, I'd say this sounds very big brotherish. Yeah, I know, that's not a word, but how about Orwellian?

Now, the normal, got-it-all-together family actually remembers to move the elf each night. But memory and consistency has never been our strong suit around here. We have the same problem with the Tooth Fairy. I wonder how many times we discovered the Tooth Fairy had actually left the money in the mail box--imagine that!--or we found it (with mama or daddy's help) under a pillow in the top bunk. That Tooth Fairy is a tricky one! At any rate, our elf seems to like to stay in one place for several days at a time. We have come up with a number of uninspired explanations for this, but I think he can still see everything that is going on--he better not report back on how many pieces of chocolate cake I eat each week.

We also forgot our Elf's name. I know that is terrible. But what can I say. I once heard my wonderful Daddy quote Bonhoeffer when he forgot a name at a function he was attending: "The ability to forget is an act of grace." Amen! Our youngest child wrote the elf a sweet little note, and, among other things, asked the elf what his name was since he had forgotten. O my stars! Fortunately, since everyone had apparently forgotten, we "remembered" that his name was "Elfie." I figured that was a name I could remember.

So, I'll try to remember his name... and remember to move Elfie around the house (though, let's face it, I'll forget). But all this remembering and forgetting and keeping up, well, it makes me so thankful for the Lord Jesus. He never forgets. Never grows irritated. Never misses, never misplaces. His power is made perfect in my weakness. And boy, I have plenty of weakness, so there's a lot of room for His strength! Most of all, I thank Him for coming. I guess I will just never get over the wonder of God becoming man. Maybe it would be a little bit like man becoming an "elf on a shelf." That big of a leap--well, bigger actually. He came down and became man that we might one day go up and be with Him in heaven forever. He gave up the glories of heaven that we might gain the glories of abundant eternal life. And He would have done it all just for you. And He will never ever forget Your name.

Thank You Lord Jesus for coming. Happy Birthday! Help us never to forget You in the midst of all the hoopla associated with Your birthday celebration--because it truly is all about You. Might we be all about You as well. To our Savior be all the glory.