Christmas Warm Fuzzies and Christmas Questions

It's Christmas Night. The presents are opened, the wrapping paper in the trash. We've got about five official minutes left here in Evansville and it'll all be done. By the time I'm done writing this it won't be Christmas anymore.

So what is it? This is the day we celebrate the incarnation of the author of creation into a tiny baby. Then why is it exactly that we expect warm fuzzies? That Christmas-ey feeling? What really is that about, anyway?

All I know is I didn't get it this year. This month flew by not only for me but it seems like for just about everyone else in my life. Everything seemed hurried and rushed. There were some days back in late November, maybe, when we were getting ready for Christmas. But then again I did work up a sweat hanging Christmas lights on my porch in Orlando in 80 degree weather. (That's really more of a plea for pity than to rub it in the noses of my northern friends, you know I'd trade it any day).

I'm not feeling terribly poetic tonight, but indifferent. Indifferent to the holiday. Indifferent to the season. Not terribly experiencing the phenomena of holiness. But is it for me to experience? What part does feeling really play in holidays--Holy days? I have no idea. Just wanted to throw the question out there. "You need questions; forget about the answers," a song says. Maybe the holiness of the Holidays is found just by asking the questions, I don't know. Maybe just asking the question itself is enough to remember that the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.

The clock is ringing midnight. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.