I remember the year I didn't feel the magic of Christmas.
All the traditions were still there, the twinkling lights, the gifts, the people I loved most. Yes, it still felt warm and joyful and very much like home. But for some reason, I was able to sleep on Christmas eve. The anxious excitement of all the years past was gone, and I drifted off simply content, fat from the week's feasting and grateful for the chance to celebrate the birth of my Savior. But not feeling particularly magical.
I suppose it reminds me somewhat of the butterflies I used to get in my stomach when Jonny and I were first dating. After a while, they were replaced by feelings of peace and appreciation.
Now...just like I still feel those flutters on occasion, (especially when I get a wink from across the room, or when I catch a whiff of his cologne)...
I can still glimpse those magical feelings of Christmas for a rare moment or two. They take hold on my heart, with surprising speed and sometimes squeezing firmly enough to eek out a few happy tears.
This year, at my parent's house, I loved witnessing my sister's family on Christmas morning. Jammies still warm from bed, teeth freshly brushed, toes bouncing in the hallway, my sweet nieces and nephew waited patiently for the grown-ups to give the word that they could race into the family room and see what Santa had brought them.
It was magic.
All the traditions were still there, the twinkling lights, the gifts, the people I loved most. Yes, it still felt warm and joyful and very much like home. But for some reason, I was able to sleep on Christmas eve. The anxious excitement of all the years past was gone, and I drifted off simply content, fat from the week's feasting and grateful for the chance to celebrate the birth of my Savior. But not feeling particularly magical.
I suppose it reminds me somewhat of the butterflies I used to get in my stomach when Jonny and I were first dating. After a while, they were replaced by feelings of peace and appreciation.
Now...just like I still feel those flutters on occasion, (especially when I get a wink from across the room, or when I catch a whiff of his cologne)...
I can still glimpse those magical feelings of Christmas for a rare moment or two. They take hold on my heart, with surprising speed and sometimes squeezing firmly enough to eek out a few happy tears.
This year, at my parent's house, I loved witnessing my sister's family on Christmas morning. Jammies still warm from bed, teeth freshly brushed, toes bouncing in the hallway, my sweet nieces and nephew waited patiently for the grown-ups to give the word that they could race into the family room and see what Santa had brought them.
It was magic.
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