Joyeux Noel
Once again, I get to celebrate the birth of the Savior with family. Sometimes, that just means Mark and me. But this year, it means my immediate family: parents-in-law, siblings-in-law, and nephews; soon I will be able to celebrate with my parents and most of my siblings. Because Christmas means God extended so many blessings to our most treasured relationships—peace, love, forgiveness, and an assurance of the permanency of those relationships—it carries an additional depth of meaning to be able to be near loved ones. But this Christmas morning, as I listen to music joyously proclaiming Christ’s divinity, power, and love, I am grateful for the quiet before others wake. I get to have, in a sense, one-on-one time with Heaven. I get to feel His love for me personally, and I get to feel the thrill of God’s triumph over sadness, pain, and death. That doesn’t mean I don’t have any sadness or pain. At the moment, I am acutely aware of my smashed-in-the-door finger, of a now-chroni