Christmas Exchanges


"Go, ahead. Open it."

There are times when this line is not merely acceptable, but it's exciting. The person who is giving you the gift knows you well. 

Then there are other times. Times you would rather wait and open the gift alone. This was one of those times. I unwrapped the gift to discover a shirt. A white, button up, dress shirt. It was a nice shirt. I can always use a white shirt.

"Do you like it?"

I liked the thought. It was a nice gesture. But, there was a problem.

Neck: 15 Sleeve: 32

I've worn a 15x32 shirt before.
I think I was 11.

I'm a 17x36/37. You'll want to make note of that in case you get me a shirt this year. Something would be done with the gift that is done with countless gifts each year. It would need to be exchanged. Everyone's excited on Christmas morning, and the day is less than a week away. Head to the mall on the day after Christmas though, and you'll discover folks aren't hanging out at home with their families. They're hanging out in line at customer service counters exchanging what the received. Exchanging is as much a part of Christmas as are cards, stockings, cookies, and jolly ol' St Nick himself.

Exchanging has always been a part of Christmas. In fact, it's what Christmas is all about. The greatest exchange of all came when God became a baby. Jesus didn't become flesh so we could have pageants, and set up manger scenes. Paul wrote a letter to the church in Corinth explaining the reason why.

"God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." II Corinthians 5:21

Now that's some exchange! Jesus, who was righteous became sin; so that we who are sinners might become the righteousness of God. The Father took our sins from us and gave them to Jesus, and then gave us Jesus' righteousness.

Imagine if I took the shirt back and they let me exchange it for an entire wardrobe. This would pale in comparison to the first Christmas exchange. The babe in the manger came to take your place and mine.

And we don't even have to stand in line.

Following the Son,

James A Williams

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