Home At Last
It was Christmas Eve 1972. The Catholic Church I attended sporadically was having Midnight Mass. Dressing in my most festive clothes for the occasion I stepped outside to begin the two block walk to celebrate the ritual of the birth of Christ. The snow was falling, and the scene was out of a movie. Picture the most perfect idea you can think of for Christmas Eve. It was magical and a hush fell over my neighborhood as the snow was slowly enveloping my world. It was beautiful, achingly beautiful.
Songs were sung. Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the newborn king. Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinner reconciled. God and sinner reconciled? What did that mean? I didn’t know. Was this the reason for my ever-searching heart for that something missing? Was this the reason why, as I looked up to the heavens that Christmas Eve surrounded by exquisite beauty, loneliness washed over me? After all these years my heart still remembers every detail.
I did find what I was searching for. I did find the answers to questions no one could answer for me. Five years later, my Saviour, Jesus Christ, came to live within me. Now when I celebrate Christmas it is no longer an empty ritual but a reminder of the greatest gift I have ever received. Salvation, my name written in His Book of Life and a personal walk every day with the maker of the Universe. Now when I stand on a snowy evening looking up to the heavens, my heart is full I am Home at Last. Praise be to God.
A beautifully written story, familiar to many of us-
Thank you Carol. Don’t know if we have met.