At bedtime tonight, Sam had a meltdown. He'd had a full day, with his Christmas concert, a friend over, and a trip to the store on top of his everyday busyness.
After a good snack and some one-on-one time reading with Patrick, Sam wanted one more story.
"I want the Jesus story!" he shrieked, then burst into loud, unreasonable sobs. When he finally came tearfully into their room, Vava hopped out of bed and ran to comfort him. He pushed her down. "Leave me alone," he snarled, then demanded of Patrick again, "read me the Jesus story!"
Patrick turned down Sam's bed, and said quietly, "you already had a story, and what you just did was not okay. You don't deserve the Jesus story."
And then we laughed - and let Sam have the Jesus story after all. Because ... none of us deserve the Jesus story, but we get it.
None of us deserve a God who would choose to identify Himself with the poor, weak, and helpless ... but He came, babe in the manger, for us. None of us deserve a gospel of forgiveness, while He met justice on our behalf.
That Jesus story?
We don't deserve it.
But we get it anyway.
Joy to the world, friends!