Life has a different feel at Christmastime. It just does. For me, that special feeling always begins some time in December. It usually happens the very first morning I’m confronted with an explosion of festive illuminated displays throughout the neighborhoods, while heading to Starbucks before the dawn’s early light. The start of the holiday season is often confirmed around the same time when Christmas carols, both the classics and new renditions (some good, most bad), seep into the playlists resonating in our malls, grocery stores, restaurants, and even our phones when we are (im)patiently on hold.

Christmas is my favorite thing about the month of December. I’ve asked it before, and I’ll ask it again: What’s not to love about a day in which we can celebrate both Jesus and Santa? Mankind seems to be a bit nicer when December 25th is in our sights, save for the lunatic scrooges engaging in fisticuffs over Black Friday deals. The missus and I never succumbed to the antics of lunatic scrooges, but we did partake in our fair share of questionably insane behavior on Black Fridays – back in the day. Once, we were on the road before sunup, traveling about 40 minutes to the big city, for the sole purpose of surprising our nieces on Christmas Day with their preferred NSYNC dolls (at a bargain price). Justin Timberlake for the one niece, and Lance Bass for the other.

Another time, my lovely wife and I made the seemingly traditional trip west to save a few bucks on a Pokémon Yellow Nintendo video game for our son. It was a frigid morning as we stood in line outside Target, before any rooster could have had an inkling yet to crow. Some employees of the store were kind enough to serve hot chocolate (marshmallows included) to all of us shivering in the lengthy line. After frostbite had settled in, and a few conversations with people donning mucus icicles from their rosy noses were had, the doors to the store were finally unlocked, and one of the most coveted gifts of the season was ours!

We are told it is better to give than to receive. But receiving is pretty darn good, too. It has also been said that Christmas is for kids. Well, I must disagree because as an adult advanced in years, I can attest that I still possess the emotion of overwhelming excitement whenever holding a freshly wrapped present in my hands. The Christmas gifts of my youth were certainly what made my childhood and adolescent years so special. Waking up to find what Santa had left under the tree, or around the tree, or sometimes even in the basement, are precious memories never to be forgotten. A brand new bicycle, a pogo stick, stilts, a BB gun, and a handheld electronic football game were just a few of my favorite Christmas gifts as a youngster. Also, anything Dallas Cowboys. I was almost as fascinated with the team’s big star logo as I was with the illustrious Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. Almost.

I remember some amazing “family gifts” good old St. Nick left us, as well. Sure we had to take turns, but we were used to it, and having to share was just the price we paid for receiving such nice presents. Like a pool table, and the original Atari gaming system. Every Christmas morning there was always at least one delivered gift from Santa to be elated over. And we didn’t even have a chimney for the jolly one to come down. That Claus character is something else, although Santa can’t hold a candle to Jesus. As a Christ follower, Christmas means absolutely nothing to me without, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11) So, this is what December means to me. What does December mean to you?