You know the song. Its engineered to make you cry, or at the very least, get nostalgic.
“I’ll be home for Christmas,
You can count on me
Please have snow, and mistletoe
And presents by the tree…
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I’ll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams…”
The song was written in 1943 from the perspective of a soldier fighting in World War Two. The reality was, the singer likely COULDN’T get home for Christmas that year. His homecoming was “only in his dreams”.
This year, for the first time in my life, I’m joining that soldier.
Covid sucks. There’s no nice way to say it. And with Thailand having strict quarantine rules, there is no feasible way for me to travel to America and back for Christmas, and still be on time for the school year resuming in January.
No snow for me, this year. (Not that I ever got much in Virginia Beach, anyway.)
I was thinking about this song the other week, and feeling a little melancholy. Sure, it’s only one Christmas. But this is the first time in my life I wont be with my family for the holiday.
And then, I realized something.
The whole point of Christmas is that Jesus wasn’t home.
G.K. Chesterton, a famous author that inspired C.S. Lewis in many philosophical ways, wrote a poem in 1912 called “The House of Christmas” I’ll link to the whole thing, but the ending stanza always gets me:
“To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome
To the end of the way of the wandering star
To the things that cannot be and that are
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.”
Christmas, especially secular Christmas in America, has become all about family, friends, and “togetherness”. And none of that is bad. I love having an excuse to hang out with my family for the holidays and be in the same place for once. But it’s easy to deify family and forget the reality of Christmas.
The reality of Christmas is that Jesus the Christ left everything familiar to be born as a BABY, in a cave in Bethlehem. There probably wasn’t an innkeeper involved (that will be another post coming soon) but it was still a messy, bloody affair–as all births are. His parents were in their ancestral town, but probably didn’t have immediate family around.
God became homeless to lead us home.
The Son of God became a farang (foreigner) in a foreign land, to reconcile us into the Kingdom of His Father. That is Christmas. That is the point.
So yes, I’m going to miss America this Christmas. I’m going to miss weather below 80 degrees fahrenheit (if I’m lucky), and real Christmas trees, and Chikfila’s peppermint milkshake. I’m going to miss hugs and fireplaces and Christmas dinner. I’m going to miss my family and friends.
But I’m also going to meditate on the fact that being far from home at the command of God is, in fact, one of the most “Christmas” things you could do.
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Next week, all the teachers at my school will celebrate Thanksgiving in classic style–with tons of food (hurray!). But because Thanksgiving is not recognized here at all, malls and stores are already well into “the holiday season”. It’s lovely and beautiful, but it also makes my heart sad.
“If only you knew.” I thought last weekend, traipsing around one mall. “If only you knew the truth.”
This year, the house church group I am part of has begun a Sunday afternoon service that is meant to be a place to bring any Thai friends and neighbors. So far, we have had one girl (a barista at our local coffee place) accept Christ! A friend of mine that taught at my school last year also recently became a Christian. So, even in the midst of everything, there is fruit growing.
Please pray for me and my school community this season, that we would shine the light of Christ to our neighbors and students.
As for gifts if you would like to “sponsor” a present for me, or send something, let me know and we can talk.
I love you all. I hope to have at least two more posts in December, given that this time of the year always stirs my writing bug. I also will be doing a “25 Songs of Christmas” Facebook countdown like last year–except this year, I will actually finish it.
As a parting gift, enjoy some pictures of my apartment decorated for Christmas!
Teach; Think; Write. 