the Magic goes beyond…

It goes beyond the jingles we could sing in our sleep, or the Christmas tree we’ve forgotten to water. 

the magic is beyond presents, and hot cocoa dusted with sprinkles and cream. 

the magic is beyond the stories of a chimney and black shiny boots…and a man with reindeer. 

Last year four days before Christmas I came down with the flu. Like the real live flu. I had the vaccine* which is why I still believe I had less time fighting with the body aches, and fever, and absolute exhaustion. Any person who has had the real flu knows what I’m talking about. You can’t drive, you can barely move, you hurt everywhere. I wept because we’d planned to travel for Christmas, and I couldn’t understand how I could miss out on so much. We would be home, I couldn’t imagine at that point how I could even get to the car. I missed volunteering with homeless families but my family still went…I missed sitting with my family at dinner on Christmas Eve but my family still ate. By Christmas morning, the fifth day, I had been 24 hours fever free, I woke up in time to see my kids and all the magic of Christmas morning…and was able to go to church with my family. I sat in the quiet mass, and felt so very grateful for health, as the body aches had begun to fade finally. In that mass I promised myself I would never succumb to the over planning, I would never complain about how tired I was when my kids just couldn’t sleep, and I would be aware of what was beyond the magic. Always. 


There is magic in the mystery. 

The mystery of why God would send us the greatest gift in the humblest of ways. 

To a traveling couple, with a baby on the way…far from home. No where to go. 

The mystery of why that night, the night where they lay in a cave with animals and dirt, He would be born. 

In the humblest of settings.

On the holiest of nights. 

There’s mystery in why our Savior came to die, for sins we committed against God, and each other. 

It’s a mystery how we’ve become so focused on things that we’ve forgotten to focus on lives being precious.

 A gift. 

The gift in a newborns cry, on a night where a star shone above the silent night sky. 

This I know…

God is big. 

God is good. 

God is faithful. 

And My faith is real.

It’s not something I claim when life is good, or I live just because I was told to. 

It defines every part of my life. 

God’s gift to the world wasn’t some cosmic fire bolt that traced across the sky reminding us of how big he was. His goodness came in a child. A baby. His faithfulness came in a dream to a Man who had decided to divorce his betrothed in private…because she was pregnant with a son. A son that wasn’t his. His faithfulness came when that Man, Joseph, heard and took her as his bride…Mary. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb…Jesus. 

The rest of the story we all know. Whether we choose to believe or hear it…is our choice. But I will never stop. 

Because I know the magic goes beyond. 

And I love the magic of Christmas, and I love teaching my children to look beyond…

To love better. 

To live a life where you bring light to others. 

To have your faith define you. 

…So much that people will wonder what brings the light to your cheeks and joy to your soul and you’ll tell them…

“It’s not a mystery, it’s God.” 

A light that won’t go out when the days are hard, and grey. A light that reminds us of a child born in a cold dark cave. But brought shepherds to the door, and Kings from the East. 

A Light that would change the Whole World. 

Light of the World.

A Light that changed mine. 

…and the rest of the story, what happens next is up to Him. 

I choose Him. Because quite frankly, I love a good mystery. 


* get the flu vaccine.