The Amazon sleigh arrived yesterday. I didn’t hear any bells jingling, just the thud of cardboard boxes as they hit the front porch.

I ran to the window in a flash hoping to get a glimpse of jolly old St. Nick. I missed him. But I did catch a glimpse of his sleigh as it topped the hill above the house, a trail of blue smoke swirling behind as he headed off to his next stop.

I needed that little excursion. A reminder that Christmas is almost here. That Santa is still doing his job after all these years spreading joy and jolly good cheer around the world.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe in Santa when you get to be my age. You just don’t feel like holding on anymore. Too many reasons to doubt whether the whole thing is worth the effort.

I get it. There was a season not so long ago for me when I wasn’t sure I even wanted Christmas to come. Whenever I tried a simple Ho-Ho-Ho, I could feel myself faking it inside. And I faked it on the outside too for the sake of my family.

I’m glad that season is behind me. Christmas is too important to get lost in the fragile tragedies of our human existence. In fact, exactly because Christmas transcends our brokenness, we need to believe in it.

I need to believe in it now as much as I ever did. I don’t really want a winter in my life without Christmas.

And that includes Santa.

It includes him because he’s such a big part of every Christmas memory that has survived inside this old heart of mine. The wishes under the tree. The pictures of my kids sitting in his lap. The cookie crumbs left on the plate. The toys gathered for those who needed Santa’s help.

“Oh, we don’t do Santa at our house. Christmas is about baby Jesus.”

Really. You’re gonna play that card. It might be wrong of me, but I hope Santa brings you a bad rash for Christmas this year.

The original St. Nick was a Christian. He was kind of a big deal in his day, which happened to be in the early 300’s A.D. He had a front row seat at important meetings like the Council of Nicea.

He probably wore long robes to work every day. Maybe he had a red one. But the important thing to remember is that he loved kids, and every day he would stop along his walk to the Council meeting to talk to them.

You know what he did? He’d give them a small gift so that he could talk to them about the gift that God gave to us all.

Old Nick made it a point to walk a different route each day. No one knew where he came from, and the kids all made a game out of looking for him.

This is how legends are born. This is how joy and hope and wonder come through this time of year like no other season. Light shines through the darkness. The Gift comes to those who look for it.

I watched my favorite Santa movie the other night. It’s the one where someone close to Santa has lost the Christmas spirit. Too many naughty people. Too many reasons to throw in the towel.

When you grow up. When you get knocked down. When life disappoints you. When grief sucks the joy out of you. When you start to think what’s the point…the Christmas memories of Santa just don’t cut it.

So, Santa’s main guy, his right hand man, was gonna resign, and just walk away from Christmas.

“Why Cal? Why’re ya doing this?” Santa asks.

“I just don’t see the good in Christmas anymore,” Cal says. “I’ve lost it.”

Then Santa gives him this speech. I probably won’t get it exactly like he said it, but here’s the jest of it.

Down deep inside every adult there’s an 8-year-old kid who still believes, who wants Christmas to make dreams come true, and who knows there’s still some goodness and kindness in this world.

“And our job, Cal, is to see that kid on the inside even when they can’t see it for themselves.”

That’s my kind of Santa.

That’s why I put up the lights. That’s why I listen to every Christmas album on Spotify. That’s why I have a box of chocolate covered cherries in my kitchen.

I’m a kid at Christmas with seven decades of experience.

It helps to remember that. I promise. Why else would I call the Amazon truck a sleigh?

So, here’s my Christmas wish. May your lights be bright. May the Joy of the season rest on your heart.

Old St. Nick is coming soon. I hope he finds the kid in you waiting for him.

Merry Christmas