Christmas time puts many extra items on everyone’s to-do list. Our brains quickly clutter with gift ideas, entertaining opportunities and necessary errands. As we go about the usual responsibilities of our week, seasonal tasks take priority while everyday duties slide.

A few days ago, after yanking a stack of cash from the local ATM, I pulled into the bank lot to organize my wallet and prioritize my errands. As I sat with a wad of bills in one hand, my list and a pen in the other, I saw in my periphery vision a man approaching my car. “What now,” I thought.

He rapped on the frosty window, and I looked up from my organizational work through irritated eyes. He smiled, then pressed something flat against the window for me to see: my ATM card.

Racing to start my errands, I’d forgotten to pull the card from the machine. This kind man had done it for me and amazingly had noticed my car in the nearby lot.

If he’d chosen to keep the card, he could have headed for the nearest Walmart and gone on a spending spree; I’d recently deposited $10,000 into the account in preparation for paying Birgitta’s college tuition bill.

Feeling ashamed of myself, I rolled down the window and accepted the card. He smiled and said, “I thought you might need this.”

Despite having a fist-full of twenty dollar bills, I was too stunned to offer one of them as a reward for his honesty, and I feel badly about it. Parting with $20 (in the face of losing $10,000) would have been a bare-minimum thank you gift.

Performing “random acts of kindness” has been a popular theme among celebrities and on talk shows in recent years, people doing nice things for others without expecting anything back. The man who returned my card was being kind without expecting anything from me, but had I given him a reward, I’d have had the joy of participating in a random act of kindness… just as he had.

Jesus was the perfect model of kindness. He healed, blessed, taught, served and performed a variety of miracles for the benefit of others. One lavish act of kindness was feeding 5000 hungry people by miraculously dividing five rolls and two fish to generate food for all.

As the disciples walked among the masses distributing the meal, did Jesus’ hands get tired from breaking off bits of bread and fish? There were 5000 men there that day, with women and children probably doubling that. Since all were satisfied after the meal, he probably tore many thousands of pieces with fingers that surely got sore. This deed was truly kind.

And did he receive anything in return? Although the story is told in all four Gospels, none mentions Jesus even eating his own meal that day.

During this season of Christmas gift-giving, each time I pull out my ATM card, I’ll think of the stranger and his random act of kindness. But I’ll also think of Jesus, who went out of his way repeatedly to be kind to others and is still doing it today.

“God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly…” (2 Corinthians 9:7,8)

When babies won’t or can’t sleep, it affects their behavior and everyone else’s. When they do sleep, they look like angels.

My three young grandbabies are doing much better with the demands of their five-hour time change and are creeping toward a manageable schedule. And that means their parents are doing better, too.

During this Christmas season, I’m in awe that God chose to send the Savior of all humanity as a “regular” baby, conceived miraculously but born in the usual way. He was as helpless as any newborn and needed the same round-the-clock care. Did he sleep through the night right away? Did he cry when he hadn’t had enough sleep? Did he have fussy times during his day?

I’d like to think he was the perfect child, but my guess is he was much like my grandbabies, once in a while out of sorts, sometimes sleepless. Even though Jesus was divine, he was also fully human, truly like us, and his behavior probably followed suit.

What a wonder that God used helpless baby-flesh to clothe (and house) his Son. He had a human mom, a human dad, and at least six human siblings. He led a normal life for 30 years, being raised in an ordinary home with a carpenter as head of his family. I find this to be both mysterious and impressive.

There were other ways God could have sent a Savior to the world: as a reigning king who was part of a royal family; as a harsh Dictator who insisted on loyalty; as a successful Warrior who gained followers through violence; or as a Student who initiated a revolution. But a helpless infant? Fascinating. I believe God simply wanted him to be like us, all the way.

Because of his start-to-finish humanity, we have confidence he understands our plight. Whatever we’ve felt, he’s felt. Whatever temptations we’ve had, he’s had. Whatever disappointment, fear or sadness we’ve experienced, he’s experienced. Knowing he didn’t have to limit himself to human flesh but did it anyway makes us want to get close to him. Only true love could prompt such a choice, and we find ourselves loving him because he loved us first.

And this is the miracle of Christmas. The loving plan of his coming to us was the only way we could eventually go to him. And although the Christ child’s infant mind wasn’t thinking about it, his willingness to be born as a baby was step #1 to making salvation possible.

And after Mary and Joseph coaxed newborn Jesus to sleep those first few nights of his human life, I’m sure they knelt next to his manger-bed and said, as all young parents (including Hans and Katy) say, “Isn’t he angelic?”

The only difference was, their baby had actually created angels and was far above being angelic.

“The Word became human and made his home among us. He came into the very world he created.” (John 1:14,10a)