Whose Birthday Is This?
My wife, Melanie, and I once performed a church skit depicting her birthday party.
“Happy birthday, Sweetie!” I said as I burst into the scene and sat next to her. “This is your day! It’s all about you! I’ve got presents!”
I slid over three huge boxes, wrapped in bright paper and bows and full of tissue paper. Melanie acted overjoyed and flung paper all over the stage as she tore open the presents.
She reached inside the first box and pulled out a watch—a man’s watch.
“Oh, hey…it’s a watch,” she said.
“Yeah, don’t you love it?” I said. “It’s awesome!”
“Um…it’s kind of big.”
“Nah, it’s perfect. It’s going to be just right.”
“Is this a lady’s watch?”
“No, silly.” I grabbed the watch and fastened it on my wrist. “Now, can you imagine how you’ll feel? I mean, I’d be so happy to wear this if it would make you happy. And this is all about you.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, and her smile dropped a little.
“But there’s more. Open this one,” I said.
We went through the whole excitement routine as she unpacked two other boxes. The first had a softball glove that was a perfect fit on my hand. Then she reached in the last box and pulled out a leather jacket. It was sleek and black, and the people in the front row could smell the new leather. Melanie let out a shrill giggle and stood to lift it to herself for sizing. Once again, her beaming face fell.
The jacket was extra large. I grabbed it, put it on, and pranced around to model the perfect fit. I snatched up the softball glove and held up my arm to show the wristwatch as I raised my eyebrows and broke into a cheesy smile.
“This has been the best birthday you’ve ever had,” I said as I ran off stage and left Melanie standing in the middle of the shredded boxes and wads of paper. She looked out at the audience with a confused look, turned, and walked away as the lights dimmed.
I came back onstage and looked out at the crowd. They laughed, and some even called out my name in mock chastisement: “Mark! How dare you!” I looked around at the mess and the gifts onstage and talked about worshipping Christ and making sure we keep him the focus of our attention and adoration rather than ourselves.
“I wonder how many times Jesus shows up,” I said, “when he’s not even invited to his own birthday.”
Are we preparing gifts of worship and devotion for the Savior of the world this Christmas season? Or are the only gifts we’re planning to give wrapped in thin paper? Is there room in your heart for God to write his story?