Merry Christmas

I haven't written for a while, and I'm not sure when I will again. It's been a little crazy.

We got a dog. I mean, we received a dog. That is fun and not as life altering as I expected. It is just another creature to love in my house, another mouth to feed, another potty training to accomplish. But there is room in my heart to love him. Plenty.

We're trying desperately to get a little more school squeezed in before we give up completely for the holiday season. Very difficult. Very.

I have enjoyed greatly the anticipation of having gifts to give to my children this year.

I am greatly blessed, and I know it.

Both the babies are walking, one with more skill than the other. The eldest is driving, cooking and painting. The second is carving, shooting, and crafting cardboard into the Roman Coliseum. The third is writing a book and playing the piano and singing. Loudly. The fourth is reading. The fifth is loving the dog. The sixth is giggling and wrestling. The seventh is quoting movies and memorizing scripture. The eighth is drawing. The ninth is biting and hitting and apologizing for biting and hitting. The tenth is uggling and elbowing the 11th out, or dragging the 11th around by the arms. The eleventh is dancing and singing. The twelfth is chasing the dog.

We put up our tree, lights on the banisters, Christmasy things in the window sills. We shopped and shopped and found treasures to delight. I've been planning meals that feel special and holiday-ish.

And the waiting until Christmas morning is tangible. 12 people know something wonderful is happening soon. 2 don't suspect anything. They'll learn, soon enough.

I don't have anything special to write. I love Christmas. I love buying gifts with my husband, for my children. I love that my husband is going to home for 5 days straight. I love decorating and wrapping and giving gifts to people I love. I love that God became a man, a baby, an embryo, a fetus, a fertilized egg. I love that He was a secret in a young woman's heart. I love that Elizabeth knew. I love that He humbled Himself to become a newborn, an infant, a toddler, a teenager. I love that He submitted Himself to human parents. I love that He understands, because He lived it, life here, veiled in flesh.

I love Christmas carols and all the marvelous truth embedded in them. I don't even mind snow carols and Santa carols. But I love the Jesus carols the best. And I love presents and parties and lights and ornaments. But I love Jesus the best. There is no conflict for me about this season. Jesus is Christmas. Christmas is Jesus. The Word become flesh and dwelt among us. The Incarnation. Emanuel. God with us.

I heard a friend say it well recently. Some people don't celebrate Christmas because Jesus wasn't really born then. But if not now, when? Because there are very few things in the history of the universe more worthy of celebrating than God become man. I cannot fathom anything more worth a party than that, except that He died and rose again for us.

And sharing that marvelous gift with my children and giving them gifts as well is delightful. I can teach them in the process that Christmas is about Jesus. God gave Jesus. Jesus gave Himself, His life. They get it. He is the best gift.

Anyway, this has been pretty rambly, sorry, I'm scattered. I have presents to wrap, a house to clean, and I am seriously not caught up on laundry from Thanksgiving travels. I've gotten within a couple loads, but then people keep wearing clothes!

Blessings! May your heart be pregnant with His love, full and overflowing! Joy to the world! Let every heart prepare Him room. Let Heaven and nature sing!