Chocolate Oranges of Eden

We hung our stockings at the foot of our beds when I was a kid.  The strategy here was that we would be preoccupied with our stocking in the wee hours of the morning long enough to allow our parents to sleep in that much more.  Of course, all we did was open our stocking earlier and then run to rattle our mom and dad as the sun was rising while yelling, "Santa was here!!!!"  Paper flies everywhere and we spend the day in pajamas playing with whatever toy will now be added to the pile in the closet.  When I reflect on it, I think what I really loved most about this great holiday was the sense of anticipation. I loved the nerve racking waiting, the decorating and the constant questioning of my parents, "how many more days?"

I love Christmas as an adult as well.  I revere the smells and the scenery.  But, what I really love are chocolate oranges.  I am fairly certain chocolate oranges were made in eden and have somehow been preserved over the centuries.  If elves make these things, I picture them in a super secret lab with the highest level of security so that the flavorful ingredients never leak into the kitchens of civilians.  Mmmmmmm, chocolate oranges.

With small children, Christmas has re-emerged in my life as a great endeavor.  There is nothing like seeing their faces on Christmas morning or getting to shop for them weeks, days or moments in advance.    As a parent, I feel like I finally get what it means to anticipate Christmas.  This idea of waiting for something great to happen, knowing that it will happen, is not to be taken for granted.  I think I finally get Advent.

When we know something is going to be great because it has always been great and we love greatness, we get excited.  Not exactly rocket science.  This is Advent for me.  There is greatness in the anticipation.  There is a unique value in the preparation process as well as the result.  The Lord planned it this way.  Our waiting for the King has its own beauty.  Keeping our lamps trimmed and burning is a celebration in and of itself.  It is a testament of our faith in the one to come and the greatness that we know he brings.  He always comes.  We are always changed.

As I longly await my chocolate orange to be in the bottom of my stocking this Christmas, I remember how great last year's was.  Sure I could just go to the store and buy one, but where is the spiritual lesson in that?