There are people who freak out about Christmas in the good way, who simply love being in the Christmas season and don't get people who actually wait until December to decorate. I'm somewhere between that and an atheist, so I'm a medium girl.
I love the anticipation of people opening presents, the smell of pumpkin, cinnamon, apple, and cranberry, the lights , tree, and evergreen boughs, and Christmas music. I love that we set aside an entire month to celebrate the greatest Gift on the human timeline, past and future. I appreciate store signs and stickers that say "Jesus is the Reason for the season." (I doubly appreciate it when they live like they truly believe that.)
It's the one season where we consider what we have been given, the empty chair at the table, how to make someone you love happy with a gift you put thought and heart into, and bake yummies for people we care about. I ponder the God-become-baby whose birth marked the earthly beginning of the Being Who created time, life, and all good and perfect gifts. God with skin on, His robe of knotted bandages that wrapped the newborn and the dead. His birth, my birth, His death, my death, His new life, my new life.
My Brett was born on this day 26 years ago. As I held him and tried to wrap my brain around what it would be like to give him to a world that would misunderstand,
Thank You, Lord, for the marvel, fun, and wonder of the Christmas season.
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