Today, I make room for wonder.

Christmas used to be this time of year when everything was magical: the warm days, the snow days, the music, the laughter, the ice, the presents showing up sometime during caroling.  Somewhere along the lines, the magic disappeared.  The warm days were signs of global warming, the snow days made getting to work inconvenient at best, the music became trite and repetitive, the laughter was forced, the ice was dangerous, and during caroling someone always forgot a glove.

Wow.  Being an adult sucks.

But it’s not just being an adult.  I don’t have a little brother to pretend for any more.  These things were still fun when Monkey and Elder Moose were little.  The wonder was still there.  Now, it’s gone.

It shouldn’t be.

Christmas is about wonder.  About light in the middle of the darkness.  About a Savior who came to earth, not as an angel or a perfected being, but as a human, with human frailties and weaknesses (to which He responded perfectly).  About giving presents and the look of surprise on the face of those who see it.  About life in a season of death and decay.

Christmas at its heart, whether you believe in the Christian story or not, is about the wonder of miracles.  And if I, in my misguided adult mindset, refuse to see them, I am the one who misses out.

I don’t intend to miss out any longer.

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