The gifts are opened, the dinner yet to be eaten, and I’m ensconced in my den, with numerous new books and music. Mrs. M received workout stuff and small items of jewelry (although she requires no ornamentation, being beautiful already.) The Spawn received books, clothing, and a wide variety of exotic unguents that she has discovered on the pantechnicon of beauty supplies known as YouTube. Even the Hound of the Basketballs seems content with repeatedly killing the toy rabbit she received.
And as I tend to do at this time of year, I find myself smiling at the unlikeliness of — well, of everything. I don’t think I ever really expected my life to be what it is. I’m blessed in ways I have never deserved, and while I suppose that’s what a blessing is, it still awes me when I’m smart enough to notice it.
But of course (as Northrop Frye noted), Christianity is ultimately a comic religion, and comedy relies on the unlikely — the unexpected. What could be more unlikely than the Incarnation, or than His arrival in a manger in a boondocks town? There’s an answer to that, by the way, but that can wait for Easter.
So today, we celebrate the unlikeliness of our beautiful lives, even when that beauty seems scarce, and we celebrate that unlikely things happen, and can make us smile.
Merry Christmas, everyone.