This Christmas
So my first Christmas as a married man was everything I expected it to be and more. Coming down the stairs to a huge, lit-up Christmas tree, stepping over numerous gifts and an excited wife is a feeling that I possibly couldn’t explain. To be honest, it felt like Christmas as a child, and that’s something that really caught me off guard.
It wasn’t childlike in the anticipation of what presents I would receive, although my hopes for sweaters, shirts and ties were definitely fulfilled. (Sign that you are getting old #135 - You hope to receive sweaters, shirts and ties for Christmas) It was childlike in the innocence of the experience, having a content feeling about the softness of the rug under your bare feet, the hypnotic glare of Christmas tree lights against early morning sunlight, and the serene feeling of being with family. And that’s when it truly hit me: I wonder what our children will think when they rush down stairs to a scene like this?
After recovering from the shock of the conflicting thoughts of childhood and parenthood, it was natural and easy to settle down on the floor with my wife to take turns opening our gifts. It was a practice that is three years in the making, but felt much more joyful as husband and wife. Five months in, and I still find news angles and views of her that make her look more beautiful to me each and everyday. Even though we started off the morning in a sortafoul way, (thanks to her natural sarcastic nature) we quickly recovered and smiled broadly at our ability to surprise each other.
Even the feigned surprise at gifts we had specifically requested weeks earlier came off genuine and true, and that’s something only the Christmas spirit can bring. Had it been a birthday, I’m sure the gift exchange would’ve went something like this:
She: Oh, so you got that Daughtry CD I wanted. I’m glad you did, because if you hadn’t, I would’ve gone right to Best Buy tomorrow.
Me: Yeah. (Sheepishly)
Something about a Savior’s birth just brings out the best in everybody, right?