And the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day

I love Christmas. I love the cookies and the songs ("Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" and "Fairytale of New York" have been on constant repeat) and the church service ("Angels We Have Heard On High" is always a highlight of my year) and the food and everyone's in a good mood and the kids tracking Santa on the NORAD website and the Moravian sugarcake and Moravian stars and the neighborhood luminaries (I love spending Christmas in Winston-Salem) and...everything. It's the most wonderful time of the year. It's a wonderful life. God bless us, everyone. Mommy's little piggy.

It also is a time that reminds me of my Christianity and that it's a faith that's very much in me. I find a lot of meaning and beauty not just in the hymns of Christmas, but in the lessons and Christian faith. I've said it before and I'll say it again: religion is like language to me. It's not as though I think that English is a superior language and everyone should speak it, but it's the way I interpret life, and Christianity is the same way. I find a lot of inspiration in it, and I don't expect it to explain everything, but it's a huge part of my life, and embracing it always feels deeply good and right. Every year I resolve to go to church more often and every year it gets put aside in favor of the sinful but addictive practices of Sleeping In and Spending All Day Sunday Unshaven And In Sweatpants. I'm a jerk that way.

Merry Christmas, everyone.