Really Home for Christmas

I love Christmas: it is hands-down my favorite holiday. Here are a few of my favorite Christmasy things:

1. Driving around looking at Christmas lights
   
2. "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas"- this song cracks me up every time
   
3. The Santa Clause- again, cracks me up
4. Eating orange cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning
   
5. "Frosty the Blues Man"- I can't even begin to explain the hilarity
6. White Christmas, with Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney
7. "The Little Drummer Boy"
   
8. Pachelbel's Canon in D major- I have no idea why, but this song makes me cry
   

It almost doesn't seem like Christmas without these, but they aren't what I love most about Christmas. It's the realization that this is when we celebrate the beginning of God's plan for us. To me it doesn't matter if scholars think Christ was born in April, or if putting lights on an evergreen is leftover from a pagan celebration.

What matters is that without Christmas, there would be no Easter; without the Birth, there would be no Resurrection; without Christmas, there would be no Hope. That's why I love Christmas; for me, it is all about the Hope that God gave us through the birth of his Son. That's why it is absolutely impossible for me to make it through Christmas Eve service dry-eyed.

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When I wrote the first part of this post a few days ago, it was just because I have been listening to a lot of Christmas music and was feeling reflective. Today though, our pastor informed the church that RW had passed away early this morning. RW's sister-in-law is in our choir, my parents have been in the same Sunday School class with he and his wife for years, he was involved on several committees at church, and my brother and I went to school with both their daughters.

Our pastor had told the choir beforehand, so that we wouldn't be shocked and then have to turn around and sing "Joy to the World," but the reaction of the congregation was just...shock, disbelief. This was very, very, unexpected: he was in his early 50s and had been in the hospital for a non-threatening procedure Saturday and come through just fine.

All I could think about was RW's family, and horrible as a death is at any time of the year, this close to Christmas it is even more painful. Can you imagine, having wrapped presents for that person under the tree that won't be opened? Everyone else full of joy while you are grieving? All of this was going through my head while watching the congregation's reaction and during our prayer for the Ws. My heart breaks for this family.

But, then I realized that as painful as this is for his family and friends, RW really is home for Christmas this year. That doesn't make it any easier. It doesn't mean the Ws shouldn't grieve, it doesn't mean we won't cry at the viewing, and it doesn't mean we understand why this happened four days before Christmas. What it means is RW is at the home we have because of Christmas, the home at which we will one day celebrate with him and others that have preceded us.

And that, my friends, is Hope.