Oh Boy! My First Day as a Blogger!

Greetings!

If I confessed how old I was when I stopped believing in Santa Clause, you’d probably all tease me for months. But you see, I had two very good reasons.

First, one Christmas I awoke in the middle of the night to nature’s call. I hoped the urgency would pass because after all, what if Santa Clause were here right now? Still, I decided I’d have to take that chance. Extremely groggy, I stumbled out of bed, shuffling down the hall as quiet as I could. And wouldn’t you know? To my absolute astonishment, just a few yards away, stood Santa Clause, his back to me, busily filling our stockings!

I froze. If he saw me, I figured he might gather up all my presents and retreat up the chimney. So I tip toed back to bed. By God’s grace, I fell back to sleep, able to hold my bladder until morning.

Now with a confirmation like that, who wouldn’t believe in Santa Clause for life? But on another Christmas morning (no way I’m telling you how many Christmases had passed) not only did I awaken to all the presents I’d asked from Santa Clause, he had written me a personal letter! Neither my brother nor sister received one. Just me. Yeah, I know – a bit fishy.

Well, I suspect you already know I never really did see Santa Clause. Wasn’t even my dad dressed as him – just my overactive imagination. And you probably also know that Santa didn’t really write me a letter either. Rather, knowing exactly what I’d hope Santa would say to me, my older brother, Jeff, dictated a letter to my aunt. The grown ups all hoped I’d be so excited to receive it, I wouldn’t recognize her writing or question the letter’s authenticity. Now trust me here. I should have figured it out.

Eventually there came a time I realized Santa couldn’t possibly be real. The day I knew for sure was the summer day a friend told me the truth. I pretended I knew it all along, of course, because I didn’t want to look stupid. Plus, by then I really did know. Just didn’t want to let go of the wonder associated with Santa Clause. Inside, I felt like a “baby.” Really silly. Like when everybody gets a joke but you. By the end of the day, though, I was over it. After all, I was a senior in high school. Just kidding!

So is that why I came to believe in Jesus Christ so strongly back in my teens, 16 to be exact? Not because He’s real but because I have this fertile imagination and trusting heart? Because I’ve heard He’s so wonderful, I can’t bring myself to recognize the signs that He’s just make believe?

Hardly. In fact, I was thinking about this when I got the idea for my blog title When I Remember . . .

“Remember what?” you ask. That God loves me. I’m always, always trying to remember that.

Whether I’m having a great day or an awful one, I have a much better shot at keeping my life in perspective – that is, my circumstances, my thoughts and feelings – when I remember to focus my mind and heart on Christ. God made me, He knows what makes me tick. He’s proven Himself faithful enough times for me to trust He has my life under control. Sure, believing sometimes requires a leap of faith, but not a blind one. Nothing like my belief in Santa Clause. God gives me reasons.

I hope that When I Remember . . . will be a rest stop for your soul. By sharing bits and pieces of my own daily journey here on Planet Earth, you may be reminded in a fresh way that a Very Big God has a very personal love and plan for you. If you know Him already, I pray you’re encouraged to know Him better. If you don’t know Him or don’t believe in Him at all, please stick around. Maybe I’ll say something once in awhile that’ll make you think a second. And in the middle of it all, I hope to make you smile.

Please feel free to respond. I’d love to know if folks are actually reading this!

I will remember the deeds of the LORD;
yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.
I will meditate on all your works
and consider all your mighty deeds.
(Psalm 77:11,12)