24. "For unto us a child is born."

I have so many things to be thankful for on a day like today.

Getting to spend time with the fam. Good friends, some of whom I even heard from today (including my closest Iraqi friend!). Gifts, food, financial stability, winter-y weather, the chance to come home for a week, lots of great TV mini-marathons (I think I just got myself hooked on "House, M.D."--such a good show!), the collective lip service we pay to the notion of "peace on Earth, goodwill to men"...all that jazz.

But at the heart of all of the fun and festivities of the day, I, we, remember the little boy born in a lowly stable, around back behind an inn in a quiet outpost village. His birth, a divine paradox: seemingly insignificant, and yet profoundly seismic and monumental.

Like a child who takes a quick, dismissive look at a newly-opened present and, with brow furrowed, tosses it aside, asking, "That's it?", I often find that I, too, am not fully-appreciative of this wondrous gift. Chalk it up to my lack of maturity and understanding, my own selfish desires and sense of what's "best" for me, my inability to get past the simple, unflashy packaging.

The truth is, I all too often go for the flashy, the gimmicky, the promises of countless hours of fun--only to find that in the end, they don't ultimately provide lasting contentment and joy. All too often, I forsake the gift of gifts and look for other things to fill the void. And even on a day such as this--with all the gifts, and family, and food, and TV--it's easy to forget the remarkable life-, world-, universe-altering event we commemorate, an event that renders us forever changed, and forever renewed.

My hope is that I will mature to the point that I never again look at the gift and ask, "That's all?" But rather, that I would continue to approach this day with an ever-growing understanding and appreciation of the significance it holds.

It truly is a day for thanksgiving. For reasons both great and small, sure, but ultimately: because it is the birthday of a King.