It’s Christmas Eve, 2014. It’s been great so far. Last night we gathered with the Sigur clan. When you are the eldest of nine children, that’s a big crowd.
Today we have our precious great grand as a guest. I took her shopping and twice gave in to her “Just one thing” plea. It’s what grandpas do. Rose read her a Christmas story and we have grocery shopping and house cleaning to do. That’s okay because we will do it together and somehow make it fun.
Tonight Rose and I will be alone. That’s okay, too. Maybe we will light a fire. More likely we will sit together and watch Christmas movies and marvel that God has let us do this together forty-four times.
If a child’s birth had this impact after two thousand and fourteen years, that would be miracle enough. If that child grew up to share wise and wonderful things, it would be a greater miracle still and plenty enough to celebrate. It seems unthinkable that such a child, born in such a lowly place would be God himself, sent to save us from our sins. That’s the truth of this wonderfully impossible miracle. To God all things are possible, and what we celebrate this night is proof of it.
A miraculous and Merry Christmas to you all.