It helps to know what Christmas looks like

    I spent 30 minutes helping my son search for a blue folder containing sheet music. After turning the house upside down, my son finally remembered that the music wasn't in a folder at all, but in a plain manila envelope.

   I had passed it dozens of times because I didn't really know what I was looking for.

   In another fruitless search, my daughter agreed to pick up some blue replacement bulbs for an outdoor strand of Christmas lights. I wasn't sure the size: C-7? C-9? The bulbs didn't say. The cord didn't say. I tried describing them. A little bigger than my thumb. My daughter searched thoroughly and returned with C-7s – too small. They were smaller than my thumb, but larger than hers.
   Searching for an overdue book is similar. What are we looking for? A red hardback about the size of a thick novel, someone says. No luck. A week later we find it: a tall, thin, blue paperback. We really didn't know what we were looking for.

   Too many times, after searching, I've found DVDs in the wrong case; it's disappointing to find Bing Crosby when I'm expecting Laurence Olivier. And when Hamlet turns up in a White Christmas DVD case, my kids are similarly miffed.
   Christmas sometimes seems like that kind of fruitless hunt. I don't do Black Friday, but earlier I tried to find a robotic cat featured in a store ad at a great price. I looked down every aisle. It wasn't there. I finally had to ask.
   "No. We're not getting those, and there's no rain check. But you can use this coupon online."
   I went online. The item was not listed for purchase, with or without the coupon. Fruitless!

   It's also a fruitless search, sometimes, finding where you stored the special wreath, or the ornament Grandma gave you 3 years ago. And didn't you tuck away bargain Christmas cards somewhere?
   I wonder if Christmas seemed like a fruitless hunt to the wise men. They traversed field and fountain, moor and mountain, following yonder star. Then, the only thing they found was a little kid and some pretty ragged-looking guardians. I bet if they'd used a GPS, they might have called the manufacturer's 800 number at that point. Or skimmed the online reviews.

   This kid is a king? Next time we'll use the deluxe, super, mega telescope!
   When the Christ-child grew up, others looked at him like he was some kind of wrong item, too. The Pharisees kept saying, "No, this can't be the Christ. The cover's wrong. This guy's from Galilee, and the Messiah's supposed to be from Bethlehem." 

   Even John the Baptist wondered if he'd been part of a fruitless search. Sitting in a Roman prison, soon to have his head cut off, John likely puzzled over why the messianic deliverer was sermonizing on the mount and not overthrowing Rome.
   "Are you the One who should come -- or should we be looking for another?" he asked.
   We're all out "looking for another" Christmas. 

    Is Christmas about God zapping Himself into a certain location (+31° 40' 53.16", +35° 12' 0.70") on the earth at a specific point in history, to save the earth's people from themselves, or do we look for another, another kind of Christmas?

    If we're always searching for "the real meaning of Christmas" we don't know what we are looking for, and likely as not, we're in for a big let down, kind of like finding the Chipmunk's Christmas CD in a Handel's Messiah case.

   Time to stop useless searching and let Christmas find us.