It has been a quiet Friday, the day before Christmas eve.  I haven't left the house today, and with temps well below zero, I'm not disappointed.  As I look out the window, a strong wind is blowing clouds of snow west to east.  The river is white with ice, broken only by a dark ribbon of open water as it snakes a narrow channel downstream.  The snow accumulation appears less than expected, and in spite of bitter cold and gusty winds, I have not lost power.  I am thankful for a warm house.  I am warm, comfortable, and somewhat lonely today.

The lonely feelings come and go. Keeping busy helps, and I'm finding plenty to do.  Today has been scattered activity - a few hours of work, a few hours sorting closets and cabinets, a few hours resting, allowing my body to recover from a head cold that's been annoying me the last few days.  I'm feeling better this afternoon, and I'm hopeful my plans to be in South Bend with Mom and John for Christmas can proceed as planned.  

The memorial service was a beautiful tribute to Susan.  Thanks to everyone who participated in the service, and those who prepared and served the meal afterwards.  It was good to see many of our extended family members and friends.  There is a YouTube link to a recording of the service attached to this post if you are interested.

In the days since Susan's memorial service, I have been busy with appointments and shopping and visitors and accepting invitations for coffee and meals.  I'm thankful for the activity.  I'm also thankful for the many expressions of sympathy and concern from many of you.  Some share their sympathy with words, in conversation or in writing.  Others offer less verbal sympathy, subtle but no less genuine.  For some it's a handshake, others an embrace, and others simply a glance, their face an expression of shared pain as our eyes meet.  It helps to know I am not alone in my grief; others miss Susan too, and they mourn her loss as I do, and somehow I feel not so lonely.

Do they celebrate Christmas in heaven?  Or is every day there a celebration of the Christ Child?  Susan and I shared 40 Christmases together, so I will miss her at my side this year.  I will miss hearing her at our piano, playing the Christmas songs she loved so much.  But our faith in Jesus assures me that she is in His presence, and I imagine her singing and playing Christmas music with a gathering of our loved ones that have gone before.  My grief is soothed thinking of their reunion. 

As for me, the truth of Christmas feels closer and more real this year.  Jesus is God’s gift of light to our dark world, and through Him we have the bright hope of eternal life.  This will be my comfort in the days ahead as I celebrate the joy of Christmas with my family.   May you sense His peace and joy as well.