::repost from 2011::
My childhood Christmases on the family farm were special times with aunts, uncles, and cousins coming to stay for several days. Our days were filled with leisurely meals all around one long table, snitching cookies off the cookie tree in the front hall (a live cedar with real cookies hanging on it), going out in the fields to cut down a tree, making tunnels and slides in the hay loft, listening to older accomplished cousins playing carols on the piano or guitar or autoharp, and rounds and rounds of Dutch Blitz.
The older cousins developed the tradition of going on a midnight hike one night during their Christmas stay. We younger cousins waited eagerly for the Christmas when we would be 13, and old enough to accompany them!
My most memorable midnight hike was the year that we hiked east a half mile or so to an old, rather abandoned family cemetery on a neighboring farm. After exploring awhile and deciding that it was too early to return to the house, we hiked back toward the house and continued on for another half mile or so to our family cemetery.
We walked around reading the inscriptions on the tombstones, noting how old (or young) people were when they died, and commenting on the verses chosen to mark their graves for generations to come.
One cousin, then a college student majoring in Bible, preached an impromptu sermon about heaven and the believer's hope. Another cousin had brought along his guitar, and we sang several hymns about heaven.
I have never met another person whose favorite Christmas memory involves cemeteries - much less a midnight visit to one!
But, the whole evening gelled into a very special memory ... participating in the long-awaited tradition, being part of the elite "over-13" group, spending time with just the cousins, being outside on a cool, still, quiet night (after the hub-bub of Christmas), reflecting on our heritage and on the faith and hope which we share with our ancestors whose tombstones give testimony to their faith.
And isn't that what Christmas is all about?
The older cousins developed the tradition of going on a midnight hike one night during their Christmas stay. We younger cousins waited eagerly for the Christmas when we would be 13, and old enough to accompany them!
My most memorable midnight hike was the year that we hiked east a half mile or so to an old, rather abandoned family cemetery on a neighboring farm. After exploring awhile and deciding that it was too early to return to the house, we hiked back toward the house and continued on for another half mile or so to our family cemetery.
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| I have glorified thee on earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do. [John 17.4] |
One cousin, then a college student majoring in Bible, preached an impromptu sermon about heaven and the believer's hope. Another cousin had brought along his guitar, and we sang several hymns about heaven.
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| "The morning cometh" [Isaiah 21.12] |
I have never met another person whose favorite Christmas memory involves cemeteries - much less a midnight visit to one!
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| Resting in hope of a glorious resurrection |
But, the whole evening gelled into a very special memory ... participating in the long-awaited tradition, being part of the elite "over-13" group, spending time with just the cousins, being outside on a cool, still, quiet night (after the hub-bub of Christmas), reflecting on our heritage and on the faith and hope which we share with our ancestors whose tombstones give testimony to their faith.
And isn't that what Christmas is all about?
"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."The Christmas we celebrated eternal life turned into one of my favorite Christmas memories!
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