Christmas morning in the afternoon.

Dear Mack,

As we pulled out of the driveway, you muttered, "this isn't fair" ... and you were totally right. It wasn't. No 6 year old in America probably had to wait until noon to open their presents on Christmas day.  Well, one did. You.

You had been so excited for Christmas morning to get here and had patiently counted down the days, and eventually the hours and minutes until the presents could be opened.  You love presents.  Actually, I can't think of anyone who doesn't like presents, but you've got to be close to the top of the list of present admirers in the history of all things {present}.

But, like most things in our world, presents weren't the priority.  I think that the chaos of the morning and the driving out of the driveway when we should have been tearing into wrapping paper was really a whisper from God that Christmas really isn't all about the presents - even though I can honestly say that the 4 of us already know that from the tips of our toes to the top of our heads and back down again.

The cows had to be moved that morning, and when cows have to be moved, cows have to be moved ... at least in the world of Murdock. And in the world of Murdock, cows trump everything.  Even presents on Christmas.

It was cold that morning as we crammed into the pickup with thermoses of hot chocolate and the dogs. I think I was the one that burst into tears first. Neither you or Mason were quite sure what to say or do except bury your head in your hands and cry with me. I even caught myself screaming silently about how unfair it was that we were driving down the road when we could have been enjoying the warmth of home around our beautiful Christmas tree like every other family in America.

And then, as quickly as I had started to cry, I started laughing.  We all did. And as crazy as it sounds, I began to actually appreciate that our Christmas wasn't going to match the rest of the world.  No one else was going to have a Christmas like ours.  Having something different than others, well that's worth laughing about, and if I were a bragger, I'd brag about it too. We stand out in a crowd because we're never in a crowd to be a part of the crowd - we're usually just passing through.

So, 4+ hours later, when we finally got back home ... guess what - the presents were still there, the sun was shining, the yummy breakfast was really a yummy brunch, and the magic of Christmas came right out of the hearts of us because it turns out Christmas is about giving & receiving ... and when it might have been easy to get a little confused about the order - we nailed it.

So, Mack ... when you look back at this Christmas of being 6 and having to wait hours longer than the average 6 year old has to wait to open presents, remember that the word "presence" is really where it's at.

You were present while we moved cows.  You were present when we opened and closed some gates.  You were present filling water troughs, and you were present where you were the present - to me, to your dad, and to a whole bunch of cows.

It's easy to get caught up in the world's view of Christmas - where presents are more important the presence.  They sound a lot alike, and they are similar, but you hold the key to making them come alive right in your depths of your heart and soul - in that place where Jesus can live in and through you!  That's the real gift, and it doesn't need a holiday to work it's magic. His presence is the present - all year, every year from now until eternity.

Thank you for being awesome enough to actually understand how important it is give ... and then receive.  You and your brother are extraordinary in that sense. You live a different life than most and you probably always will, but even when you find yourself in the midst of ordinary, remember - you are uniquely YOU and that is a gift worth giving to the world. You may not be wrapped in the shiniest paper, but your presence in the world is a gift.

May you always have that awe and wonder of the gifts you're given, and may you always be as understanding as you were on the Christmas you were 6.  That was the best gift you could have ever given me without even trying.

I love you & I hope you know how much ~

Mom