My daughter is hovering right on the edge. She’s starting to ask the questions, even though I see in her eyes that she knows the answers. Is Santa real? Is the Tooth Fairy? How about the Easter Bunny?

She’s a smart cookie, especially about all the logistics. She’s noticed that my handwriting looks suspiciously like the tooth fairy’s. She understands that I shop for all the Christmas gifts. She’s caught on to the fact that Mom and Dad always know where the Easter baskets are hidden.

She knows…but she’s hanging on, suspending disbelief. She’s playing along, because there is a corner of her heart that adores the magic and the mystery, the fun and games of it all. There’s a little corner of her heart that still wants it all to be true.

It’s a little heartbreaking, because I know it’s only the beginning of the end of this era for her. Soon she will start to let go of some of the things that childhood innocence allow us to do: believe, delight, thrill, be overcome with glee, hope.

I’m so happy that she gets to hang on to Jesus. That he, with all of his miracles, is 100% for real. We don’t ever have to let go of that, not as a child and not as an adult. The miracle of a virgin birth, the appearance of angels, the guiding star, the prophesies lined up and fulfilled…we get to keep it all, all of the time. And like my daughter, we get to hang on to everything that comes with the miracles of Christmas: belief and delight and the thrill of something we can’t quite understand, but is as real as real can be.

But the greatest miracle of Christmas is God’s love for us, that he came not just to be born and live here, but to die here, for us:

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5: 6-8). 

I can’t grasp this, but with words meant for a child, I can simply say, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

Lord, you are beyond my understanding. You are a God full of miracles and mystery, power and wisdom. Give me a heart of wonder and of child-like faith. I’m sorry for passing over the details of your greatness, for failing to ponder the reality of what happened at Christmas: the awe-filled story of God coming to earth in a virgin birth, surrounded by fulfilled prophesies and heralding angels. Thank you for the solid reality of your presence. Fill my heart with awe and wonder at your greatness. Thank you most of all for your love. In your name I pray, Amen.