There is something very sweet about Christmas Eve night, even if you aren't waiting for Santa. I remember growing up, that was the only night mom would leave the tree lights on all night, so of course I did too. Unfortunately no one other than me saw the glorious sight of a lit tree in the dark house. It was so beautiful. I thought so much this year about waiting. What a wonderful thing to practice. So much of me wanted to open those gifts and start loving them. The other part of me wanted to love the waiting. Waiting for a new ipod does not even begin to compare awaiting to hear from God. Waiting to see his plan unfold. There was no lit tree to gaze at and know the next morning Jesus would be born, but that sky must have had some show for the wise men to pack their camels. And I cannot begin to fathom what the sight was like for those shepherds when the angels woke them up. So many sights and sounds surrounding Jesus' appearance. I have to wonder too how the angels felt about their beloved Jesus coming to earth. As the warriors and protectors I wonder if they were pushing up their sleeves getting ready to help him along. I wonder what his knees looked like as a toddler. Did Jesus keep a skinned nose like Henry did for a while when he was one? Although tired and late and a bit overwhelmed, I did really enjoy gazing and thinking as I was getting ready for Christmas morning. But again could not of compared what was happening the first Christmas Eve.
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