May your heart be filled with great joy today at the Good News that never grows old!

May you praise God as the angels did.

May you worship Jesus as the wise men did.

May your remember the greatest gift of all as you exchange gifts today – the Gift of our Savior, Jesus Christ!

And just as Mary did, may you ponder and treasure all the glories and blessings of Jesus this Christmas Day!

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them. And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

Luke 2:1-20

We have a radio at work that we turn on sometimes. Mostly it is background noise and there are times I hardly notice it playing. It has been present over the years and like myself, over time it has shown its age. It lacks an antenna. Its dual tape deck has long been defunct, and the number of stations that can come in clearly have been reduced dramatically. When I was younger and friskier, firmer and less arthralgic it played the latest hits of the time, top forties and stuff you can dance to, but it’s music selection has never been at my discretion.

I am not the boss of the work radio, or the work thermostat for that matter. I have rarely if ever touched  either. 

At Christmas the dial is always tuned into the Christmas radio station channel – the radio, not the thermostat, although those forever freezing coworkers may disagree with a Christmas themed thermostat setting. 

The station is one that plays Christmas tunes 24/7 in the time leading up to Christmas. Sometimes the songs have a tendency to repeat. 

One year a coworker and I played a game revolving around the aforementioned repetitious songs. Every time a particular song made it into the rotation we would agree to nap. It was a joke, obviously. We were not napping on the job. However, to this day when I hear that one song I always find myself asking whomever is near if they’re up for a nap. 

Recently the radio music has begun to give way to static more than melody. On the busy work days it is less obvious that the ol’ faithful radio looks like an awkward dinosaur sitting on the desktop. I have said before I am not a music person, music does not always speak to me, not like it does some people, but as I have aged I have noticed that perhaps I pay attention just a bit more, the words more valuable than they once were. They mean something to me now. Where they once just occupied space in my mind, now the words inhabit my thoughts. As “Silent Night” was sung from the speakers, between static crackles the words of “Christ the Savior is born” and “Jesus, Lord at thy birth” swirled in my mind, and I began to wander and managed to meander down lanes of history and what I know. 

I like a good backstory and “Silent Night” has one. Silent Night, is the most popular Christmas song in the world. In 1816 Joseph Mohr penned the words in a poem as he nursed a case of tuberculosis and cared for his parishioners in snow laden land. It was a time known as the dark years that were notoriously made cold because of a volcanic eruption.

Two years later His friend Hans Grueber developed the iconic tune for the guitar, because rumor has it the church rats had eaten through the pipe organ rendering it useless to play that Christmas Eve Service when it made its debut. I have often wondered if those trials and difficult circumstances had not played out as they had, would we even know the beauty of “Silent Night.” 

In those days, famine and disease were prevalent, and hopelessness pervaded the mind and assaulted the senses. The two men were nearly lost to history as “Silent Night” made its way to world renowned recognition. Yet because of their perseverance in difficult times “Silent Night” became what it is today, a song of universal recognition, connecting hearts together just as it did the Christmas Day Armistice of World War I ushering in peace in the midst of literal war.

When I hear “Silent Night,” I am reminded of those two patient-in-affliction fellows and what the result of that suffering and hardship became, and I am inspired to press on in times of trouble. And then I reflect on My King, born Lord at birth, born with a destiny to die for all mankind. Born babe, born humble, born Love, born Hope. 

Several years ago we took our children to Disney World. It was amazing. We made memories that we still hold dear and close, and we still proudly display family photos from that trip. We met some friends there in a once in a lifetime encounter and circumstance.

Even still as a family we play the “Disney” game I made up at the dinner table. It’s an imagination game. Each member is asked the same question, “If you were at Disney where would you be, what would you ride, and what would you eat?”

Some of our players’ answers change each game; some you can predict, as the answers are all always the same. 

I think of that trip often and apart from a few sour notes those days are full of good times and happy thoughts. 

One such thought comes to mind when I think of our return to our lodging after our long fun filled days. We would ride on a bumpy bus, rocking tired children to sleep on a nearby adult lap. Those rides back were always so much quieter than the excited chatter-filled bus rides in the early morning to the park. As we would pull into the drop off destination the bus driver would flip on the automatic voice which had spoken through speakers all day warning to keep loose extremities inside the vehicles until they came to a complete stop or to stand clear of the closing doors. Throughout the day the voice reminded us to pick up packages or fasten safety devices.

At the end of those fun-filled, memory-making days, the voice would say something about I don’t remember what, and then it would say something about waiting until things came to a complete stop or letting certain individuals disembark, and then it would say, “Welcome home.” 

Some word phrases just resonate with me, “Welcome Home” is one of those.

I recently received a piece of mail inviting me to a church body and it grabbed my attention because on the front it said, “Welcome Home.” I used to think when I entered Heaven I would like to hear what most folks say they want to hear, “Well done good and faithful servant.” But the older I get and the more I long for Heaven, the longer I feel like a stranger in this land, growing evermore and more cognizant that this world is not my home. 

I long to hear the King say to me, 

“Welcome Home.”