I'll be Home for Christmas

Being home.

It always sounds so nice. So warm, cozy...mistletoey. Always someone to hug and hold. Good smells. A warm fire. Love.

Home is where the heart is. Or at least where the heart wants to be.

When I was a girl, I felt this warm fuzzy feeling during Christmas visits to Armstrong, at my grandparent's house. There was atmosphere. I could feel that stuff the songs describe.

But there were plenty of lonely nights when I craved that feeling again. Nights in a college dorm room. Nights during the holidays when family wasn't near.

Remembering the joyous memories just makes the usual all that more bleak. 

And so I search for contentment. 

And I think about another Lonely Being, who just sent His Son to a very cold, scratchy, unloving planet. Bad smells. Cold water. Disdain.

Baby Jesus could not be home for Christmas. He came to save these poor, unworthy, unwelcoming souls.

So we could, one day, be home for Christmas. 

Our real home. With light shows better than you've ever seen.

And more atmosphere than you could ever dream for.

Thank you Jesus.

Thank you for coming here.