Ladies and Gentlemen: Santa Claus Has Left The Building

It finally came. The year my sentimental mommy-heart has dreaded for 17 years of mothering. This was the first year that Santa Claus did not visit the Inman home.

'Bout time, I guess. My babies are now 17, 14 and 12, and are all taller than me. We had a great Christmas, overloaded with loud, crazy family, our own goofy traditions, way too much food, sweet worship at church, and the kids were genuinely tickled with their four gifts a piece, this year, from their dad and me. No one seemed to miss Santa a bit.

So, why do I write this with a tear in my eye? I guess it kind of marks a "rite of passage." We don't have little children in our home anymore.

The Santa Claus Years were so sweet. In all honesty, Phil and I have been more reluctant to say good-bye to them than the kids. (We threatened them when they asked questions over the years - "OK, I'll tell you the truth about Santa, but the year you stop believing is the year your get nothing but socks and underwear for Christmas." - that hushed them up for another year.)  We will always remember leaving cookies and milk out for Santa's snack, waiting for our excited kiddos to finally fall asleep on Christmas Eve, tiptoeing around a dark house, being pounced on by 3 giggling mini-maniacs (joined by their 100 lb. Golden Retriever) jumping on our bed way before dawn, their sleepy eyes opening wide, drinking in all the loot that "magically" appeared, and the train wreck that our den became for the next several days as we tripped over toys and boxes and searched frantically for batteries.

But the most meaningful thing to watch, even as our children were completely enjoying their Santa Claus Years, was them falling in love with Jesus, each one in their own time, and in their own way. We have been so blessed see each one of them love the Baby Jesus, eventually receiving and embracing Him as their Savior. Their very own. They've said good-bye to Santa Claus, but their souls will live forever.

No, we don't have little children in our home anymore. It's gotten even better. We have three growing Christians. We have three Disciples. We have three Masterpieces, still under the careful construction of the Master Himself. We have three young adults who are teaching their mom and dad more about the goodness of God than we will ever teach them.

So, the Christmas that I have dreaded has come and gone. And, you know, I believe it was our best Christmas yet. I enjoy my children at their present ages and stages so much now that I want to freeze this moment in time. But I've said that for the past 17 years. Every year has been my favorite year. Just when I think it can't get any better, it does. That's the way it is when we walk with Jesus.

So, in the Inman home, Santa Claus has left the building. And I'll treasure these next few years more than solid gold.

For now.

Someday, I'll have grandbabies . . .