Dear ____________,
You are not a little kid anymore, and I know it. You have outgrown some of the things you used to love about Christmas morning. But Christmas is still my birthday, and I still wanted to write to you.
When I was twelve, my parents lost track of me in Jerusalem. After three days they found me in the temple, listening to the teachers and asking them questions. So I know what it is like to be at the age of questions, when you are working out who you are going to be.
This year may have been loud: classes, friends, a phone that never goes quiet, the feeling that everyone else has it all figured out. They don't. You don't have to either, not yet.
I know your name, ____________. I know the parts of you that everyone sees and the parts you keep to yourself. You never have to perform for me. When you talk to me, even silently on the way to school, I am listening.
This Christmas, put the phone down for one meal and look around the table. Those people have watched you grow up, and they are proud of you more often than they say. And if someone near you is having a hard time, be the one who notices.
Merry Christmas, ____________. I love you, this year and every year.
Jesus