After Ryan and I opened approximately a thousand Christmas gifts (let’s just say his grandma literally is the Santa Claus–she’s incredible), we came home to our little room in his parents’ house. After crawling into bed in our new pajamas and just before falling asleep, we read the Christmas story together. I asked Ryan, “How come the creator of the whole world was born here–of all places? How is it that all the prophets of the Old Testament, of the Book of Mormon, prophesy of this moment, of this coming? How can the entire purpose and fate of the world center on this coming, His purpose in this coming, when no one but a mother, a somewhat stepfather, and shepherd strangers from the field saw it?” Ryan said he didn’t know but that he wished he could have been there.
The great thing about all of this was that the lava lamp was plugged in so the whole room glowed pink and red. We just lay there, on our backs, looking at the lights.
I said, “I love Jesus.”
Ryan said, “Me too.”