Every year I head into the Christmas season Grinchy and Scroogy. My joy in saying Happy New Year is mostly predicated on no longer hearing Frosty the Snowman blaring from the radio. This year was no different. I buried my inner grump as we unpacked Christmas shirts, ornaments, and the menorah. Eric and I were craft vendors at a Christmas event in town. It’s a pretty big deal. Windows unveiled. Hay rides. An abundance of hot chocolate. The Mercantile was raffling off a train set. Not just any toy though: a miniature of the train from the movie The Polar Express. It was absolutely spectacular.
We never did watch the movie over the Christmas season. Other things took precedence. At one point I tried to watch Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer but didn’t even have focus for that half hour. There’s a lot of differences between the two movies, length of watch aside. But the one thing that popped to me this year was the toys.
In The Polar Express there is an entire train car filled with broken toys. They were all once gifts and over time have become shadows of their former selves. They are being conveyed North in the hope of being rebuilt. This scene has always terrorized me. Not just because the Hobo scares the Hero Boy. No. But because when Christmas comes around I often feel like a broken Ebenezer Scrooge puppet in a train car. I just want to be taken back to my Maker and be rejuvenated. Can anyone relate?
Sometimes I need the reminder that I am not a marionette with snapped or tangled strings. Jesus says in Matthew 11: Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Labor is often translated weary. Original Greek means to grow weary with toil, burdens, or grief. Heavy laden is to place a burden on or to load. The meanings of the two words are very similar but the difference is real. The invitation from Jesus is to everyone who is in the process of growing weary and to everyone who is already under a heavy burden. Basically: all of humanity.
Here’s the joy: what is three words in English- give you rest- is one beautiful word in Greek- anapayo. From Strong’s concordance comes the definition: to cause or permit one to cease from any movement or labor in order to recover and collect his strength. Wow! This ain’t just Jesus tossing out a cot for nap time. This is the Savior actively inviting us to recover from the pain of burdens and get strong again.
The toys on the train had all been deemed useless. In need of repair. Un-play-with-able. The Hero Boy left the train without any toys. Without any plan for the toys. Without looking back. We are never told their fate. The optimist in me believes Santa refurbished them and they were given another chance at life. A new gift on a new Christmas. These toys are in stark contrast to the toys in Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer.
Instead of a train car, there is an entire island. The inhabitants themselves tell the name: The Island of Misfit Toys. They sing a song of woe. All they want is for someone to belong to. Someone only with them. Except they are the oddballs. They have parts or abilities that don’t line up with others like them. The “normal” toys. They are lively if sad. Functional if forlorn. Longing while languishing. They need delivered.
Rudolph makes them a promise to tell Santa about their plight. He keeps good on his word. The viewer is gifted the ability to join in on the happy ending of the misfit toys. Santa doesn’t fix the toys before giving them to the children. They are play-with-able as they are.
Like misfit toys we belong in the arms of our Savior. There is no such thing as a “normal” person. In our fallen state we all sin. We are all flawed. We all need delivered. But we are not toys that God plays with. We are His children and need to walk according to His holiness.
Too often life is treated as a game. Except there is no reset button. There is no fast fix. Untangling the marionette strings of past controlling people is painful work. The broken wings of broken dreams prevent us from flying to the heights we were designed to pursue. Missing puzzle pieces leave an incomplete solution during a decision that needs full clarity. Over time we adapt to playing with our broken toys. We adopt coping mechanisms and recite scripture to keep us in a daily level of functionality.
God doesn’t want us to simply exist. He has given us life and life abundantly. All we need to do is come to Jesus. It sounds simple. But the Bible admonishes us to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. Not that we can save ourselves. We can’t. Or we would have by now. We should apply His word to our lives. We should katergadzomahee – “achieve” the full measure of blessing as promised.
I don’t want to be a broken toy with an unknown destiny. I want to be a misfit in a world that needs God. No one who fits in to the world will get into the kingdom of Heaven. Be in the world. Not of it. If God can use a Grinchy Scroogy me, how much more could He use a grateful giving me? Jesus extends His hand. I need to put down my broken toys and take His hand.
Musings In The MidWest 