Why I Believe in Santa

Fairy tales were a staple in our house growing up. We had this incredible, giant fairy tale book that we read almost every night before bed. Mother Goose & Disney were just as important. I can remember countless times watching The Neverending Story, Time Bandits, Labyrinth and all the Disney classics. The key ingredient to these whimsical tales was a vibrant imagination. We believed in becoming a princess & riding off into the sunset with a legit prince. It was fun, imaginative & lighthearted.

We grew up believing in Santa...until the year my dad ruined it for my little sister accidentally, & I made her swear never to tell anyone. If a fat guy wants to squeeze his gut down my chimney & bring me presents, I'm not going to question it. We even did the Easter Bunny, which I admit at this late date, that I believed in a giant bunny who brought me candy for far longer than any kid really should. But hey, I had a healthy imagination. Talk about child-like faith.

On the flip side, we prayed every night, at every meal, and every time we got in trouble. We talked about Jesus in our house. I dressed up as Esther for Halloween one year. Don't ask. We were in Awanas, went to Sunday school, went to a Christian school. We had balance. We knew the difference between right & wrong, as well as good & evil. I didn't think that one day I would fly (although I hoped), I didn't think that Maleficent was going to come & make me prick my finger on a spindle, & I would fall into a deep sleep until some prince kissed me. I knew the difference between real life & fantasy. But oh, what fun it was to get lost in a movie of sword fights, flying dog things, David Bowie in creepy spandex making you find him in a crazy labyrinth, & even Santa.

I already know the reasons why people don't incorporate Santa into their families. That's fine. This isn't for you. I'm not looking to pick a fight, start a debate or even give anyone a platform. This is why WE do Santa. Why WE do fairy tales. Why WE do magical, mythical, fantastical stories. And why? Imagination. Whimsy. That's it. In our house, we love Jesus. We pray for others, we ask for things, we thank God for the things we have. We also watching movies about fairies who usher in the season. We read Harry Potter (well, the cool ones do...cough cough...Josh!). We play video games where we create worlds that are only possible in our imaginations. Is it an escape? Perhaps. Some people golf, some people take long baths. We love the ideas of Nutcrackers coming to life & dancing around in a beautiful ballet piece. We love falling in love with books that take you to imaginary places from Platform 9 3/4 into a castle somewhere in a deep, magical forest. Where good wins. Good always vanquishes evil.

You disagree? Cool. You won't change my mind, & I won't change yours. That's ok. We can still be friends. Unless your kid tells my kid that Santa isn't real. Then, I'm breaking up with you. If my kids love fiction, fantasy & stories of far off places, if they can get lost in books for hours at a time forgetting to eat or pee (Maren, I'm looking at you, girl), I will look in on them & smile. Oh, how I look forward to the day that my THREE (WHAT?!?!) kids find themselves entranced in a book that they can't put down because the Wesley has rescued Princess Buttercup from the ugly king dude, or Gandolf & Frodo are hugging & crying over a gold wedding band. You should have seen me banging out the Hunger Games series. Started on a Friday afternoon, finished book three on Sunday. Then I looked around & wondered what the hell I was supposed to do with my life now that it was over. Find another fantastical, whimsical, made-up world to get lost in.


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