Thoughts on Christmas Past, Present, Future.

The first Christmas I can remember took place in Colombia in 1983. I think it was 1983, I can’t remember exactly because this was the year that my parents, in their infinite wisdom, gave my brother (6 years older, by the way) a set of boxing gloves, thereby subjecting me to a series of mind-numbing beatings. Now that I think about it, it’s really a miracle I can remember anything at all.

In 1987 I recall that the vast majority of my gifts were apparently purchased at a travel plaza. Eighty percent of my presents had a shell gasoline logo on them. Didn’t matter to me though, that truck and trailer combo were pretty cool. That was also the same year we got a VCR, which basically allowed me to tape my favorite show, Air Wolf. Until that time I had never seen an episode all the way through since the show ran from 7-8 and bedtime was 7:30. This wasn’t the first year that I was to receive branded swag.

In 1991, I received a slick duffle bag and a football shaped telephone. The duffle bag was green with the Quaker State Oil logo on the side. Apparently my father received said bag for purchasing two cases of motor oil. The football phone, in case you forgot, came with a Sports Illustrated subscription, which I suspect was my brothers gift that year.

If you look on my bookshelf you’ll find a book that is perhaps my second most treasured book behind my Bible. On the inside of the hardcover the following is written:

The book was entitled “Eclipse of the Crescent Moon” by Geza Gardonyi. It was our Christmas in Hungary and my parents had purchased me a copy of the famous Hungarian novel based on real characters and events in Hungarian history. This book spawned my love affair with Hungarian history and laid the groundwork for the passion that God inspired in me for Hungary. As far as Christmas gifts go, it’s probably had the most profound effect on me of anything I’ve received. Not bad for $15.99.

I give my parents a little teasing about growing up without traditions and constant change. Our presents weren’t the most expensive name brand item, and some were ‘complimentary’, but we never doubted the love that was behind them.

This year I sat in my in-laws living room thinking about the fact that my children are now the MK’s. They’re living the life that I lived. I hope that they can avoid some of the struggles that I had. Perhaps the fact that I was an MK gives me a little more in common with my kids than most parents.

I was a lucky kid growing up as an MK. I saw and experienced life in a way that many never will. I never bought into that, ‘poor me’ garbage because we traveled around or didn't have a standard American Christmas. Christmas isn't American anyway.

I think my kids are pretty lucky too. Not because they have the greatest dad or anything, I don’t own a mug making such a claim. But my kids know that regardless of the place, the traditions, the change, or the gifts, that have a mom and dad who love the Lord and are serving him, and we love them more than anything else. As a father it’s my goal that they experience the best of being an MK, and I’ll do my best to limit the rough spots.

So next year, we celebrate Christmas back in Hungary. Christmas 2014 will find our family sitting around the tree, more than likely plastic, forging our own traditions in a land far from ‘home’. We’ll have hot cider, sing a few songs, and then presents. I don’t know yet what those will be. I haven’t seen a football phone in years. Now that I think about it, maybe Carter would like a copy of “Eclipse of the Crescent Moon”, or perhaps I’ll just let him read mine.