I'm sitting by the Christmas tree, watching the sleeping child in my arms. Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out… He smiles joyfully, fleetingly, in response to a dream. His dark eyelashes flutter a little, then he is quiet again.
The wonder of my son still hangs over me like a warm, luscious summer day that mellows into a cool, refreshing evening. And it makes the wonder of Christmas so much more tangible...
that the unfathomable being of God can be as close and as warm as the baby I hold.
that the unseeable face of God is as near and familiar as my baby's breath and smile.
that the hands that hold the universe together at one time gripped Mary's pinky like my son is gripping mine.
The unimaginable is still unimaginable to me, except that it happened, and it is as real as the babe in my arms.
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