Well I'm tellin' ya. If there's anything in this world that can keep you young forever, it has got to be celebrating Christmas with your children. Heck, celebrating Christmas with anyone's children really ought to do the trick.

We have done all of the shopping and wrapping. We have run ourselves from pillar to post with one party, church pagent, gathering, school concert, after another. We have opened the gifts. We have hauled out the trash. We have made all the Christmas day phone calls and eaten the Christmas dinner. My husband and I have done all of that and everything in between and this morning, instead of having that beaten-by-a-baseball-bat feeling of fatigue and holiday hangover, I feel....grrrreat!

In a previous post I wrote that I struggle with very painful issues of grief and loss during the holidays, but somehow in the end it all turns out just fine. Sure enough, that's what happened again this year. After all of the ripping and running around, and doing the things that I do because they need to be done and also because it is a good distraction, you would think that I would hardly be able to lift a finger. Not so!

I feel like I could walk for miles in a pair of strappy high heels, or some cute boots.

There's just something about seeing Christmas and all of its wonder (and yes, even its commercial crassness) through the eyes of my children that inivigorates me, lifts me, carries me...makes ME feel like a child again.

Neat trick, huh?

Thanks, kids.

And thank you, God.