Little ones

In T-minus twenty-four hours, I am leaving for Michigan to spend three and a half blissful weeks with nothing but Yuletide cheer in my heart and loved ones gathered 'round. My little brother is going home, too, only he'll be staying there next semester and leaving me all by my lonesome here in Utah. So, in honor of his departure and Christmas and all things that are wonderful and ridiculous about being siblings, here is an old photo I dug up over Thanksgiving weekend.

Me and Bradford, ca. 1997

Only in the carefree bliss that is childhood can white copy paper transform into a beard, and I guess it's okay to waltz around in your underwear no matter what the occasion. More and more, I'm coming to believe that Christmas has everything to do with children, even the silly ones and the trouble-makers and those who wonder if there is still a place for them in this world. A child was born in a stable in Bethlehem long ago to show us that miracles can be found in the tiniest, most fragile of bodies and in the humblest places. For that I am grateful.

I'm also feeling extremely blessed to know that I will reunite with my siblings (those dear partners-in-crime, those sharers in all tomfoolery) this holiday season. One of my brothers, Josh, is soon to be a dad for the first time. What better way to celebrate the joys of Christmas than to welcome another little child into this big, humble, messy thing we call our family? And hopefully someday he'll have brothers and sisters willing to sit in his lap and fully believe (maybe for just a moment) that he's Santa.

Yeah, that's what it's all about.