The Grinch came to our house

Someone stole a box of Christmas gifts off our porch today. It was from Michael's mom. The thief took it into our backyard, ripped open the box, riffled through everything, then left the debris there for us to find.

This is strange and disconcerting in a number of ways. Of course, theft always makes one feel

violated. The thief had the thought to take the box into our backyard which is somewhat secluded so he or she could riffle through it in private and only take what he or she wanted. A thoughtful, considerate thief? Or a stupid one? (As one person at the postal inspector office said, "That's pretty gutsy," and another, "Wouldn't a normal thief just take the box and run?") And so far the only thing we have found missing is a vacuum tube (for an analogue guitar pedal) that Michael ordered and was there in a separate package - a nice, $7 tube, but still, seriously? You want that? And if this person was a guitarist who would be interested in such a thing, why not take the guitar socks? And for goodness sake, what makes the least sense of all: WHY would any thinking person leave the bag of jelly beans?! (Thanks for that, by the way!)

But violated as we feel, we are mostly grateful:

Both Michael and I had, as our first thought (after, "Seriously?"), "I hope whoever did this was really in need, and I hope it provided for them something they truly needed." I love that I am married to a man who cares more about people than stuff. We are disappointed, but not devastated, because at the end of the day, the fact that my mother-in-law put together such thoughtful gifts for us (these were our

"stockings" from her/Santa) is really the best gift. We are truly blessed to have many loving and generous people in our lives. Maybe the person who did this doesn't have such love, in which case, I hope this little act brought them some comfort.

It turns out, the person hardly seems to have taken anything. Because these were stockings, it was a lot of little, mostly inexpensive stuff. No gift cards or anything. The main gifts Michael's mom sent us (the more valuable ones) already arrived safely in separate packages.

Our sweet doggie has intuited Michael's anxiety as he works on reporting the incident, and has nuzzled up to him to bring him comfort. (This was of course after Klaus had gotten through his own anxiety by chewing on his own ear a bit and then pulling his bed to a different spot, just to show everyone he is in control of the situation.)

The gifts that got thrown behind the garage were not the expensive things - the silk ties were both safe from the mud. In fact, the only things that got wet were some socks and Klaus's new Santa toy, and he won't mind that it is wet because he'd have gotten it wet with his slobbering anyway.

And finally, if I may put on my pastor hat for a moment, the most important gift of Christmas doesn't come in a box in the backyard, but in a manger in a stable. No Grinch can take that. Jesus came into the world among the poor, into the mess, into the ick of the world. Sometimes that ick looks like a thoughtfully assembled package ripped open and riffled through by a stranger in the backyard. Sometimes it looks like someone who's life situation drives them to such an act. But it always looks like love and grace beyond logic or comprehension.

Whatever the case, the Grinch was not successful in stealing Christmas. We have all that we need, and way, way more than we could ever deserve. Thank you Grinch, for showing us that. And thank you God, for giving us that.