Silent Night, Quiet Morning, & the Blessed Awe of Christmas

There are bubble wrap bits on the floor from the package that Barrington had tried to open. A bow is here, an empty box there. Wall sockets are busy charging new gadgets for their official launch, and the kitchen betrays evidence of the night before. It's Christmas morning -- a more leisurely affair than once upon a time. The kids -- no longer kids -- now gather the night before for worship, egg rolls, and presents, instead of dawn to reconnoiter Santa. It's quiet; the only sound the coffee brewing and the fire and the echoes from the night before...

...Isaiah and his kind...
...Matthew and Luke...
...O Little Town of Bethlehem...Angels We Have Heard on High...Joy to the World...
...and Silent Night;
...children describing angels they have seen flying and grasshoppers they have seen hopping;
...news of a young couple's preparation for a first child;
..."Merry Christmas"...
..."I love you"...
...the gift of awe-filling grace...
...the light that the darkness cannot extinguish.


Christmas is hardly over. We have miles to travel and more family to embrace; we have more presents to open and more food to eat; we have more fires to gather around, and more memories to make. And despite our middle-age and lifetimes of experience holding candles on Christmas Eve, we still have a gospel to comprehend.

Which is to say that, far from being over, Christmas is still just beginning.

Merry Christmas.