“Bah humbug!” I relate to that. Scrooge meant Christmas was a fraud. If Christmas is about Jesus, it’s almost totally a fraud. The date is wrong, the songs are often theologically/biblically inaccurate, even celebrating the birth of Christ is not mandated by Scripture. I’m not really against Christmas (I might be), but I am bothered by Christmas. It has become like a splinter I can’t remove.

I’m bothered by the tree, the guy in the red suit and the lights. Anything that distracts us from worshipping the guy born in the barn can be an idol. They steal our attention. We say they enhance the celebration, but that smells like smoke and comes from the pit of Hell.

Some of us filled up Christmas shoeboxes with little toys and trinkets. I wonder if we filled them with compassion and sincerity as well? Do we know kids still need underwear in May or October? When did Chapstick & Kleenex become a Christmas gift? When do we apply, “Love your neighbor as yourself?” What if I bought the orphan the same thing the college sophomore is getting for Christmas? I can tell you. If we did that, the college sophomore would not be getting what she is getting for Christmas.

I’m guilty and I hate that too. I'm not preaching from the mountain top but rather the valley. A big plastic Santa that lights up came with our 1958 Beaver Cleaver house, and he greets me every night by the back door with a smile that if translated says, “I won!” What I mean is we have overspent, over-decorated and I’m sure we will “under-worship.”

I think this is my last Christmas. I’m not sure what that means but Jimbo Fisher isn’t the only one that knows how to throw a tree to the curb.

What’s the real answer? IDK, that’s probably what bothers me the most — I can’t fix it. It’s a heart problem. Only the guy born in the barn can change the heart. I don’t know about the two front teeth, but all I want for Christmas is for hearts to be right. He told me to tell you that.