The voices in my head argue this one out: The Magic of Christmas pitted against the: ‘this is not what I expected for Christmas’ … but I can accept either position at any given time, even at the same time. What is the beauty of Christmas? And why have I traveled thousands of miles to be with my daughter and her family for this Advent season? There is a part of me that hungers for connection, for beauty, for the fulfillment of a longing I cannot exactly put my finger on. I know that the bonds of love are a huge part of the craving, being in the same air space with those I love, rekindling memories and crafting new ones. Every recent December, my own mother expresses a wish that she could experience ALL her family to come home at Christmas. And my heart does a split in two again, as I am reminded that two of my children will never come home for the Advent festivities on this planet. Death acts the grinch at Christmas.
And yet, in a desert land of North Africa where the “Joy to the World” is not sung, I watch my daughter intentionally celebrate the season, the reason, I am reminded of the hope and the peace spoken of as my grandchildren light the Advent candles. Around the kitchen table small fingers glue tissue paper to make a lantern light craft. And a song played in my head, from when my children were crafters at my kitchen table, One small child in a land of a thousand, one small dream of a Saviour tonight.(Sung by Evie) A knock from the back door lets us know the neighbour and her daughter arrived in the midst of glue and tissue, and speaking of light of the world … and then the flow goes Arabic, and I step back and keep glue on paper. The girl is invited to make a lantern and the head-scarved mother asks the reason for what they are doing. More Arabic, and messages about the light of the world are spoken, and a fourth tissue lantern goes to another home.
One small child in a land of a thousand One small dream of a people of light. One small hand reaching out to the starlight
One small saviour of life
So each year as I think of hearts coming Home at Christmas, I try to focus on the meaning of where I am truly at home. I am a spiritual being, and my heart is at home within the embrace of my spiritual Father. And my heart feels warmed by the light.
One thought on “Doubts re-All Hearts Come Home for Christmas”
well said once again joc. and yes, all hearts go home for christmas, no matter how young or old you are. for myself, it’s been 37 years since I’ve been home. and every year, the song sung “i’ll be home for christmas” sung by difference artists, brings tears to my eyes. overwhelming memories come to mind, the emptiness filled with my own little family here on the west coast.
and your christmas this year, is totally different, one I cannot imagine. my heart goes out to you as you remember the ones that cannot be with you. may the many wonderful memories be a comfort for you, where ever you are. and glad you could be with your daughter, son inlaw, and of course, those wonderful little grandchildren. who light the world for us.
merry christmas jocelyn to & your family. may that inner peace continue to be with us all. lol. gl