Continuing Home

The ongoing saga of a Continuing Anglican church home, as seen by a member of the laity.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

It's Christmas Eve Again

The frantic pace of life has come to something of a halt as Christmas Eve is near dawning. Christmas was one of Bill's favorite times of year. He would take out and set up the tree, gently and purposefully decorating it, stopping from time to time to consult with the kitchen dwellers who were preparing supper and baking in advance of Christmas Day. It was a time of joy and family togetherness that filled his heart with peace. We carefully avoided any talk of upcoming travel and focused rather on the ineffable gift the Father gave this sad and tired world: Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of our souls, the King of all Creation, the tiny, vulnerable newborn whose first cries were heard by nearby shepherds and whose lullaby was the flutter of angels' wings. This year we will pause and give thanks for Bill's quiet, worshipful spirit and do our best to emulate him as we decorate the tree, listen to Christmas music on the stereo, remembering how much it meant to him to be home at this time. Bill is now at peace, home where he belongs in the heavenly choir. I can almost hear him singing: "Adeste Fideles." For unto us and child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government shall be upon His shoulders. And His Name shall be called: Wonderful, Counselor, Almighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. And He shall reign forever and ever.


  • At 6:47 PM, Blogger Tregonsee said…

    Personally, after a double loss several years ago, I found the toughest time to be the first Christmas Eve afternoon. Then came the Christmas Mass, and I knew that everything was OK now.

    His thoughtful, gracious chronicles of a Continuing Anglican will always be missed.

  • At 12:03 AM, Blogger Caitlín said…

    I am amazed at what you wrote because on Christmas Eve, at Mass, I received a special surprise. Our choir was asked to vest for the service. I do not have a choir robe or even a cassock or surplice. The one they came up with for me did not even remotely fit. It was quite comical. Then I remembered that Bill had vestments in the sacristy (if no one else was given them to wear). The men who were gathering there helped me to dress, and as I put on the vestments I felt a warmth come over me and a sense of peace and wellbeing that grew through the service. Bill had his arms (the arms of his cassock and surplice) around me and suddenly I knew things were going to be alright. I guess you could say that was my Christmas miracle.


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