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Christmas Dinner with the King
It was the gloomiest of all
Christmas Eves that late afternoon in 1996.
An overcast, melancholy sky and the biting drizzle of chilling rain was
but a fitting backdrop for the somber task at hand. The day is indelibly etched in my memory, for
I stood in the family cemetery holding a large umbrella over my 81-year-old
daddy as we both watched the monument being carefully unloaded and guided to my
brother's grave. Back in September when
we had asked the memorial company to please have the stone set before
Christmas, we had no way of knowing that the timing would fall on Christmas
Eve.
The sting of the gray rain
paled in comparison to the acute sting of grief and cognizance that a precious
loved one would be missing at our dinner table this Christmas.
Though daddy said not a word,
but gazed intently in a supervisory fashion to ensure the job was well done,
his emotions were, nonetheless, palpable.
As the company's truck lumbered down the country road, he quietly walked
over to the monument, carefully inspecting the inscriptions and giving it an
approving rub with his aged hands. It
was a surreal moment for me--the frail, elderly parent finalizing the details
of his son's death and, seemingly, touching his son one last time.
As usual, all of us gathered
at Momma's and Daddy's house, the old home place, on Christmas Day. When my other brother, Wayne, the only
remaining sibling, arrived, we told him about the newly placed, beautiful
memorial, so he wanted to immediately go see it.
As we stood in front of that
cold piece of granite, the warmth of scriptures engraved upon it enveloped us. But on this occasion, with everyone gathered
back at home to celebrate the birth of Christ, it was the inscription
containing the words to an old Gospel song which proved most poignant of all:
"Some call it Heaven; I
call it Home."
As the emotions overcame me
and tears welled up in my eyes,
"Try not to cry,
Joanne. Just think about it. Yes, this is our first Christmas dinner
without him, but it is his first Christmas to sit at the King's table and dine
with Him! We can only imagine what we
are celebrating. He is experiencing the
reality of it!"
Dining with the King of Kings
and Lord of Lords! No human speech can remotely articulate it nor can mere mortal
minds possibly comprehend it--this place called Heaven. It is the final destination for which you,
dear reader, were created. It is the
eternal, resplendent "old home place" for the redeemed where we may
once again embrace our loved ones who died in the faith as, I'm sure, my daddy
did when he was reunited with my brother just 7 months later and my precious
mother did when she entered Glory 8 years later.
My special Christmas prayer
for all who are grieving is that the "God of all comfort" will
especially comfort you throughout the holidays and beyond. And for those who
may not know the Good News of the Gospel, the Lord Jesus has a table prepared just
for you. He makes the call today just as He did to a beleaguered, confused
group of fishermen over 2000 years ago:
"Children have ye any
meat?...Come and dine."(John 21:5,12)
They wisely accepted His
invitation for dinner. As for me, well,
I'll be seeing you 'round that celestial dinner table one grand and glorious
day!
Joanne Carraway resides in