"Children have an infinite capacity for belief."said Ravi Zacharias in a recent radio broadcast. I was at the mall yesterday, eight days before Christmas in case anyone has forgotten, and I saw lots of adorable young families in line to get pictures taken with Santa Claus. Even at my age, 46, I can remember the whirlwind of excitement of being all dressed up for my photo-op and, of course,desiring to share my heart with the jolly old elf. I wondered if he could really see that I had tried so hard to be good, but also worried that he knew my secret sins, the things in my heart that I didn't want anyone to know. The jealousy that I had of my sisters Shirley Temple like curls, my cravings for attention and love. Could it get in the way of the new doll that I had on my list? When our turn finally came I glossed over the fact that his beard looked fake and that Santa's face didn't have the lines of age and character that I had associated with "The Night Before Christmas" poem that my Mom had read over and over until I knew it by heart. I was desperate to believe. I didn't feel comfortable on this stranger's lap but was still disappointed at the all too brief encounter with the man who held my hopes and dreams in his hands which lasted no longer than four seconds.
Jesus said"Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God."
This morning I will put on my sophisticated grown-up clothes and worship my Savior, but in my mind I'm going to be twirling in a sparkly red dress and patent leather mary janes. Dancing for the One who truly knows my heart and loves me anyway. God bless you today.