Let’s get all stream of conscious for a moment.Why not? It’s as good a time as any.
It’s Christmas morning but our Christmas is pretty much done – though I fancy the idea of living as if Jesus died yesterday, was raised today, and is coming back tomorrow (Martin Luther), and I guess that means Christmas is always done in some sense.
We took a four hour drive in about seven hours. I’ve eaten barbecue three times and wish I had time to eat more. I’ve had my dad’s marvelous cheese roll (which I’ve had virtually every year of my life, it’s not Christmas without it). I’ve had target practice (first time I’ve shot a gun in a couple of years).
I’ve seen some great lights – the imitation ones on houses and at a Christmas lights spectacular, the imitations of the imitation ones on the ceiling of our bedroom from my kids star-projecting pillow pets, and the real ones in the sky in the real darkness of the rural countryside (I don’t get to see that in my ‘metropolitan’ home). There’s been a pretty nifty ring around the moon for the past three nights. My dad says the old story goes that this means rain is coming – and it is.
I’ve given and received lots of gifts. I got three really good books (from my wife) that I cannot wait to read (I started on one already). I’ve lived vicariously through my children, and through myself (you figure that one out). I’ve renewed acquaintances and had some reconciliation, and probably missed out on some. I’ve felt conviction and received grace.
I’ve walked through a cemetery with my wife that tells the story of my hometown and of virtually the entire maternal side of my family for the past 120 years. I’ve remembered that my name is destined for a tombstone, and that either my wife or I will have to see the other in a casket. I’ve waxed nostalgic and had my eyes tear up a bit. I’ve missed old friends. I went to my first genuine ‘candlelight’ church service. I was surprised when they suddenly shut the lights out, but apparently everyone else was expecting it.
And God has been good, as always. The gambit of emotions and senses and memories, along with the constant reminder of the incarnation of Christ, has reminded me of his realness and nearness. I’ve raised my little Ebenezer – ‘hither by thy help I’m come.’ I’m still amazed that Christ is still with me and I am trusting that he always will be (because he says so).
And now we’re getting ready to leave early because we have a winter storm coming in behind us and severe thunderstorms with the threat of tornadoes ahead of us. And I hate tornadoes more than anything in the world. Wednesday it’s back to work, back to the grind. It’s like going from the land of faerie to, well, Mississippi (not that Mississippi is that bad, and I’ve heard there are faeries there hiding in the forests). Our holiday is over and the tornadoes await. But it won’t always be that way. One day the idea of C.S. Lewis will ring true:
The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning (C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle).
Just not yet. The little glimpse these past few days hasn’t been bad.
