Somebody told Cooper Santa only brought gifts to good boys, so of course he asked,

“Mom, am I a good boy?”

Ummmm…. as I am writing this I hear pounding and unusally loud singing from his bedroom a good bit after we have tucked him in…..honestly. But what 4 year old boy is good? Strike that. What human is good?

I want to teach him that Christmas isn’t for those of us that measure up. Christmas is for all of us that couldn’t.

God’s beautiful backwards way of showing up was to love the very worst of us. Because the worst of us knew we needed Him. Because the worst of us knew hope didn’t lie in this planet or these days. Because the worst of us knew we were wrecked apart from a miracle.

Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners. Mark 2:17

Merry Christmas to the worst of us!