Christmas 1988
Dear Family and Friends:
Here by my window, in our house by the woods, the night begins to come, as all nights must come. The sun lies low upon the horizon. Languorously, she stretches out upon her golden couch of violet hues. Another day drifts gently towards its conclusion.
Yet not all conclusions are as gentle as this day's end.
This is the year that my father died. I cannot begin to express the depths of loneliness this brings. I wish I could tell him this.
I wish he could know. Somehow I do not think that he valued himself enough to know what a gaping hole he had filled in our lives. I am afraid that he did not know how much he would he missed.
All of this shouldn't have surprised me so, for in each life is contained the seed of death, just as in Christmas is the Cross contained with all of its gory suffering and death. Again, within Good Friday is contained the glorious flower of Easter; the knowledge that the sun will rise again. And so comes the knowing that in dying we cross beyond the "Shadow-Lands".
"'There was a real accident' said Aslan softly. ‘Your father and mother and all of you are – as you used to call it, in the Shadow-Lands – dead. The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning.’
... And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. ... now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.” (C.S. Lewis: The Last Battle)
And we know that if we die in Him we shall live again. This is the promise of Christmas: God came to dwell among men, to share in our suffering. Out of His great love, He came so that He could know us to our very core and die as a direct result of our cursed condition. And then, in a burst of glory, He would overcome that curse and once again dwell among men. Only this time it would be from within us - if only we should ask.
Still, our lives do continue to go along in all of their complexities. Sometimes they are simple; sometimes they seem hopelessly entangled.
Justin: who can fathom his mind? He has so much to offer but has so many stumbling blocks. He is doing much better this year largely due to a year's growth and to one very stubborn, very dedicated 2nd grade teacher.
Galen has lived up to his name (of one who heals) merely by his babyish unfolding and becoming. He is a little packet of love with two pattering feet seeking new mischief each day's moment.
Heidi is still determined to be a doctor. That looks completely impossible. But I don't know - that stubborn set to her jaw is back. She has overcome a lot this year. With herself and the Lord as a team, who knows?
who knows ...
I thought my Dad's health was possible. But God in His infinite wisdom saw differently. It is hard to argue with omniscience. I know that now my Dad is safe; now he hurts no more. At last he has all the love he needs; and warmth and peace, and blessing.
It is just that I miss him and wish he knew.
I miss my father.
I miss the daughter that used to be.
And yet… in each life there are a thousand such twilights; a thousand dark nights.
But we also know that the morning comes again.
And once more the sun will shine.
But for now the sun lies low upon the horizon. Gold and violet; orange and rose swirl in dance around her. Softly she beckons the oncoming night so that she can give the earth its well needed rest.
And so in the warmth of her fading light, we bid you the joy and peace of this Christmas season, and all the year to come.
With love,
Patty, Michael, Heidi, Justin, and Galen Christopher