Pick Me Up

This morning, as I fixed my morning coffee, I noticed a small pile of hand-written notes on scraps of notebook paper I'd left on the Breakfast Bar yesterday.  They were letters to Santa.  For the past several years, I've had the honor of playing Santa at Lakeland School in Elkhorn for their annual Waffles with Santa fund-raiser.  Lakeland is Walworth County's beautiful school for special needs kids and young adults.  Each December for one Saturday morning I don a Santa suit and sit on a Santa throne where children can talk with me and have their picture taken with Santa.

I get to visit with about 50-75 students, some of them  three or four times during the course of the morning.  Some bring wish lists -- "a live bunny," "a life supply of candy," "some mistletoe" (requested by a 16-year-old boy), "a WIDE TV," "$50,000," and "my first kiss" (from her boyfriend).  Others, when prompted by their parents, just tell me what's on their mind.

Some of the kids are frightened by the Santa throne, and can only get within two feet of me before they start to scream.

When the action slows down, I climb down from the throne and wander among the families eating waffles.  The kids are far less afraid of Santa when he's not on his throne.  As I visited with one group, a little girl of about 4 or 5 years came over to me and requested, "Pick me up."  I looked to her mother for permission, and when she nodded I picked up the little girl, expecting that she had thought of something else she wanted for Christmas, or decided it wouldn't hurt to repeat her list to a potentially-forgetful Santa.  Instead, when I picked her up, she quietly put her arms around my neck and laid her head down on my shoulder without saying a further word.  I continued to talk to the family -- it didn't phase the little girl.  After about three minutes had passed, she lifted her head and looked me in the eye. "I can get down now" she said.  I set her down and she ran along to play with her friends

How often our meeting with God is like having waffles with Santa -- we come to share our list and get our picture taken. Then, once we've smiled and said, "Cheese," we climb down and go our way.  But this little girl -- she came to Santa and said, "Pick me up."  And that was all she wanted.  When she was ready, she said, "I can get down now."

I will never forget that little girl -- it was a special moment.  I suspect that God cherishes those moments when we come to him, not with our list, but simply to request, "Pick me up."  God holds us in his presence until we are renewed, and can say, "I can get down now" to return to our daily lives.

I hope that sometime, during this Advent season, you will find time to approach God and say, "Pick me up."