i'm sorry, did I forget your birthday?

I love the days after Christmas. They feel like Christmas morning over and over again because you get to wake up to your new stuff and play with it (or read it or wear it or hang it on the wall . . .) School age children everywhere will go to school next week with crackly new jeans and shirts with the store creases still in them and new toys hidden in their pockets. That first day after vacation we'll probably have to remove Drew from his Bengals football uniform with a crowbar. (Why the Bengals? I don't know).

There's a creative video on YouTube in which Jesus throws himself a birthday party and no one shows up. It's very cheesy. And yet, at the end, when he sat dejectedly against the bounce house all by himself, I felt sad.

Just think, if we believe in him, and that he was actually the real gift that day - then these years since then are the ultimate "days after". Every morning we wake up is another day to feel so relieved he came. Try the video. And in light of all the present-opening glee, just try not to feel sheepish.