I’ll Be Home for Christmas

After a year when so many lost their homes through war or natural disaster, I was especially grateful to decorate the place we’ve called home for almost 10 years and to share it with friends and family. This is where we live and this is home.

Yet another home comes to mind this time of year. The big white house on the hill where I grew up in Tennessee was still there until a couple of years ago. Although the house has been demolished and the surrounding land sold, I can still visit there in my heart and mind any time I want.

I close my eyes and I’m pulling my car up the long driveway and parking between the screened-in side porch and the dogwood tree. As I get out of the car I see my mom looking out the kitchen window where she’s been watching for me. By the time I get to the door she’s rushing to it from the other side, clapping her hands, smiling with her whole face, and calling out, “Nancy’s home! Nancy’s home!”

For most of us, even in the best of times, the Christmas season brings tears. Tears of sadness, tears of joy, maybe tears of gratitude for all we have or all we’ve loved and lost. Each year I tear up the first time I hear Amy Grant’s “Tender Tennessee Christmas.” She sings, I know there’s more snow out in Colorado than my roof will ever see, but a tender Tennessee Christmas is the only Christmas for me.The song connects two states that have been home to me. As a T-shirt I have reads, “I’m just a Tennessee girl in a Colorado world.”

At times, often after I’ve visited Tennessee, I begin feeling that rather than having two homes I don’t have any place to really call home—that geographically speaking I no longer belong here or there.

That’s when the Lord gently reminds me that it’s normal to feel this way, because we won’t truly be home until we are with Him for eternity.

The joys of this past year were many, but we also experienced some devastating losses and far too many memorial services. As we reflect on those who are no longer here experiencing Christmas with their families, we take comfort in knowing that because they were followers of Jesus Christ they are “home for Christmas” in the truest sense.

 

And until we join them, we’ll continue to be grateful for, and blessed by, our earthly homes present and past.

May you be blessed to be home for Christmas this year, and if you don’t know where your true home is, turn your eyes upon the Babe in the manger and the grace and truth He still brings to the world. Merry Christmas!