Christmases when I was young were a build up of tradition upon tradition to Christmas morning glory underneath the Christmas tree. It doesn't escape me that the older I get, the merrier and brighter they seem to have been :) As an adult, I've sought that blissful feeling of anticipation sometimes fondly, sometimes desperately, sometimes despondently.
I've been looking for the big and grand Christmas spirit, exasperated that I haven't felt it, and for having reduced everything down to the mundane. In my contemplation of Jesus being the reason for the season, it occurs to me that it's a small start. Not Jesus and God's gift of unbelieveable-but-believe-it grace for us all, but in the sense that a baby is a small start for a very big life.
If the small start of a baby in a manger is good enough for God, savoring what is and a heart-season of quiet contentment is good enough for me.
Wishing you halls decked with merry and jolly, moments of holy, calm and bright, and if your heart has wearied, that the trill of hope awakens you to rejoicing in a brand new year.
Merry Christmas to you, let's be joyful!