Why Jesus Is Better Than Santa Claus

Santa lives at the North Pole ...
JESUS is everywhere.

Santa rides in a sleigh ...
JESUS rides on the wind and walks on the water.

Santa comes but once a year ...
JESUS is an ever present help.

Santa fills your stockings with goodies ...
JESUS supplies all your needs.

Santa comes down your chimney uninvited ...
JESUS stands at your door and knocks, and then enters your heart when invited.

You have to wait in line to see Santa ...
JESUS is as close as the mention of His name.

Santa lets you sit on his lap ...
JESUS lets you rest in His arms.

Santa doesn't know your name, all he can say is:
"Hi little boy or girl, what's your name?" ...
JESUS knew our name before we did.

Not only does He know our name, He knows our address too.
He knows our history and future and He even knows how many hairs are on our heads.

Santa has a belly like a bowl full of jelly ...
JESUS has a heart full of love.

All Santa can offer is HO HO HO ...
JESUS offers health, help and hope.

Santa says "You better not cry" ...
JESUS says "Cast all your cares on me for I care for you."

Santa's little helpers make toys ...
JESUS makes new life, mends wounded hearts, repairs broken homes and builds mansions.
Santa may make you chuckle but ...
JESUS gives you joy that is your strength.

While Santa puts gifts under your tree ...
JESUS became our gift and died on a tree.

It's obvious there is really no comparison. We need to remember *WHO* Christmas is all about. We need to put Christ back in Christmas, Jesus is still the reason for the season. Yes, Jesus is better, he is even better than Santa Claus.

Merry CHRISTmas!!!

Mary's Pregnancy

I always think of Mary's pregnancy at Christmas time. She was probably still in her teens. Her Mama wasn't with her as she gave birth. She was bouncing on a donkey's back just hours before the delivery and endured labor without drugs or clean linens. Surely exhausted from her journey to Bethlehem, she had not had a hot meal in some time and it was cold. Huddled in a foul stable, Mary must have been dismayed when the first pangs of labor began.

Yet, in spite of all that, she knew she was carrying the Son of God! We cannot even imagine how she felt. There has never been another mother like Mary, nor will there ever be again. Her faith was great and she knew God would take care of her. She had already risked all when she agreed to this majestic calling.

All mothers have a special calling, a beautiful commission from God. He has chosen to entrust the life of one of His beloved children to us... What an honor! What an awesome responsibility!! What a glorious blessing!!!

Recalling Mary's pregnancy always makes me nostalgic about the times I carries new life deep in my body. I loved being pregnant, having a new baby, raising my children. The sweet story below expresses this feeling so well. Make sure to also read Mary's Heart!

Just Once More
By Laura Brogden
Submitted by Emily Sarmiento

I'd like to be pregnant just once more. I'd like to see a plus sign on a pregnancy test and do a dance of joy on the bathroom floor. I'd like to tell my husband, "We did it," and see the joy on his face. I'd like to walk with my secret in those early months, a proud grin on my mouth, inexplicable to those who do not know. I'd like to take prenatal vitamins every day. Just once more, I'd like to feel my clothes grow tighter and let that make me smile. I'd like to tell my daughter there's a tiny baby in my tummy, a brother or a sister for us to love. I'd like to see her eyes grow wide and her heart full with happiness that I know will turn to envy. I'd like to worry about how she will adjust to her mommy caring for another child. Just once more, I'd like to feel this family grow.

Just once more, I'd like to watch my body swell. I'd like to look at myself in the mirror and rub cocoa butter on my hips and my breasts. I'd like to take warm naps when the sleepiness comes. I'd like to take loving care of myself. Just once more, I'd like to make passersby smile at my enormous middle, and cause strangers to open doors and carry groceries for me. I'd like to feel the envy of the women in my life, those who will give advice and remember, for a moment, what it feels like to carry life inside of you. Just once more, I'd like to wear that womanly sacredness.

Just once more, I'd like to feel the movement inside me, and try to guess which body part is pressing on my ribs. I'd like to feel the gentle nudge of a baby's hiccups in my guts. I'd like to take my daughter's hand, and place it precisely on my skin, where it ripples and undulates. I'd like to peer over my stomach to find my toes, and watch my belly button turn inside out. Just once more, I'd like someone to be a part of me walking.

Just once more, I'd like to go to sleep at night, too big to be comfortable. I'd like to wonder if I will sleep through the night, or if labor will come before tomorrow. I'd like to feel the first contraction and get out the stopwatch. Just once more, I'd like to ride the waves of contractions, howling. I'd like to marvel at the strength of my body. Just once more, I'd like to squeeze my husband's hands when it hurts, and have them massage my back when it subsides. I'd like to breathe those funny breaths and hum that strange, guttural tone. Just once more I'd like to bring forth a child, slippery and wet from the depths of my body. I'd like to feel God move through me.

Just once more, I would like to undress a newborn child and count the toes and fingers. I would like to see my husband's eyes looking back at me from the face in my arms. I'd like to look for birthmarks, and place my finger in a tiny powerful fist. I'd like to turn names over in my mind, listening to the sound of them with our family names, and see if they match the new face in my arms. Just once more, I'd like to see a soul with a new body and a new name.

Just once more, I'd like to hold a child at my breast and feel the milk let down, ready to nourish and comfort. I'd like to feel my breasts heavy and uncomfortable, so full the milk squirts out when I take a warm shower. I'd like to hold that child to my chest and rock and sing. I'd like, just once more, to feel my shirt wet, warm and sticky from milk too ready to pour. Just once more, I would like to be more animal than human, connected to all the living mothers in fur or in skin.

Just once more, I'd like to fold tiny clothes, change tiny diapers. I'd like to help my daughter hold this new baby for the first time. I'd like to see my husband sway an infant in his massive arms. I'd like to fill the house with baby things: blankets and toys, a swing and a bassinet. I'd like to feel the relief of getting a child to sleep, finally, and the tension of checking for breath throughout the night. I'd like to wish again for just one uninterrupted night of sleep. Just once more, I'd like to live when the days and nights are no longer marked by light and darkness, but full and empty stomachs.

Just once more, I'd like to host the visitors, the well-wishers, the gift-bringers. I'd like to hold my newest child up proudly for viewing. I'd like to see my mother cry at the miracle of this new life. I'd like to hand the baby to my husband so that I could hold and cradle my daughter. I'd like to tell her about the time that she was as small and needy as her new sibling, and how we tended her as gently.

Just once more, I'd like to let love multiply.

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About the author: Laura Brogden is devoted to mothering

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