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Christmas prep 2009 has begun. Most of us have begun our Christmas decorating and shopping. Here in Colorado Springs, the snow has been falling non-stop for the last 48 hours. It’s a Norman Rockwell painting of Costco outside my office.

The first real snow of December always pushes my mind further toward Christmas. But it’s not Christmas. It’s the second week of Advent and I’m waiting for all the wrong things.

And it’s making me cranky.

I’m waiting for other drivers out of my way. I’m waiting for the checker at Target to hurry up. I’m waiting for the girl at Starbucks to quit asking me if I’d like to try their new Carmel Bruleé latte so I can just order my coffee. More than anything, I’m waiting for the rediculously rewritten Christmas carols being used to sell TVs to get off of the air.

Sometimes waiting for Christmas feels like waiting for it to be over.

Maybe it’s time to steal the baby Jesus.

For my wife, stealing baby Jesus is a tradition going back as long as she can remember. Within hours of her mother setting out their hand-carved wooden nativity scene, Amy would sneak into the living room, leaving an empty manger subject to much adoration from a cast of barn animals and oak-colored people.

And just as sure as she would take Jesus out of his manger during Advent, she would return him on Christmas morning. “Jesus didn’t come until Christmas,” she reminds us.

Inspired, we tried pulling the same stunt at work one year. We snuck into the chapel, carefully removed the baby Jesus and placed a note in the manager he vacated: “Don’t rush me! Be back Dec. 25th.”

Predictably, this maneuver didn’t receive overwhelming praise from co-workers. But it is faithful to the story.

The church I became a Christian in emphasized self-examination leading up to communion. As we sat and waited for the trays of tiny biscuits and cups of grape juice to make their way down the row, we were supposed to think of what Jesus has done for us, how he gave himself, how we’ve failed to give ourselves and how he’s forgiven us for that. Advent is like that. It helps us wait and anticipate and hope for the Messiah to come again. Advent helps us appreciate Jesus coming. Advent gets us ready for one of the two best celebrations of the Christian year.

But instead of waiting, we get most of our celebrating out of our system beforehand. Offices are full of Christmas goodies right up until Christmas Day. The day after everyone’s signing up at the gym. We play Christmas music non-stop starting on Black Friday, but hum a bar or two of Jingle Bells on December 26th, you’ll probably get clubbed in the skull with fruitcake.

I wonder if we sell our celebration short. We spend about forty days shopping and baking and snacking and about a day and a half celebrating. Maybe if we prepared differently, waited, hoped, longed, our celebrations would be different. More exuberance and less frustration, more feasting and less munching, more joy. Maybe we’d celebrate a bit longer, a bit louder, with a bit more joy and exuberance. We wouldn’t ease in holiday and munch ourselves into a New Year’s resolution, but cannon ball right into the feast of Christmas and party until we’ve got nothing left to give.

If you have a nativity set, give it a try this year. Steal the baby Jesus. Until Christmas, look at the empty manger and imagine a world without a Savior. Wait for the only thing that really matters.