Why I am Rich

I am cooing “Santa baby” in my best sultry come- hither voice, purring for a sable, ring, yacht, house, etc as I unload my very full Santa truck, heavily stocked with Christmas presents from my day-long buying binge.
Next comes the sorting and wrapping. My mind meanders right past the gifts and straight to riches, the song piquing my curiosity about what kind of gifts I would give and receive if I was really wealthy.
Maybe get the Lexus with the bow on top like the commercial advertises?

And then off to the races goes my imagination. A sailboat, no ,JET SKIs! Go bigger, a cool boat for the hubby. A convertible for me, or a motorcycle?
I sort the actual gifts and make piles of who gets what. I begin to think of the recipient of each gift (all under $50 per family gifting rules).
My husband gets the cologne and fuzzy pjs with the fish on them. I think of how good he smells. Of how he makes me smile as I lay next to him at night and listen to the rhythm of soft snores. I love our warm bed and how the moonlight streams through the tall windows across the white comforter turning everything a dreamy shade of deep blue.
The cool remote control helicopters, operated from your phone, are for the boys. They are all grown up, but all men are just taller boys. I love the sound of the upstairs floor creaking at as they move around during the night. It’s so good to hear that again, even if it’s only for just a few days. They have added wealth beyond measure to my life.
The awesome lantern candles, way cute yoga outfit, faux fur blankets, funky jewelry, chocolates, candles, bath and spa goodies, separated out for brothers, sister, daughter in law, sister in law, nieces, mother, friends. I smile as I think of each of them, but also pinged for the missing gaps in our tapestry. For the piles I am not making this year.
My dogs. Maximus, the huge Great Dane tries to climb into the fireplace at night. So he gets a new Christmas sweater, the only Christmas sweater I am giving. Bear, the big Akita, gets a new bed (his current one is skunked, literally). I love the way the dogs sit down and look up at me, they make me feel adored. How awesome is that? Small pile for the dogs, to the side. Not wrapping that stuff.
I sit back on my heels, surveying my horde. I can’t help but think of my riches. And I allow Christmas to really sink in.

How it forever separated time into “before” and “after”. I am a child of the Most High King that came to earth to introduce himself to humanity, so we could touch him, know him. I know that nothing is mine, yet everything is. I am the temple of God, He chooses to live with me, in me, and through me. I am an expression of His love. When there are no more Christmases for me here, new experiences await.
I couldn’t possibly be richer. There is no way to add to “full”. I enjoy a healthy body, wonderful family and friends. I begin to start cutting the tags off and trying to wrap odd sized things. But now I am singing “Joy to the World” instead of “Santa Baby”.
I pray that you are filled with joy, gratitude, and love this Christmas and you offer this light to the world.
Edie Webber and the team at Clean Slate.

PS, Here is a quick gift for you: ENJOY!

//

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