Road trip . . .

All those folks on the road to Bethlehem. Traveling together to the same place. Maybe some of them knew each other. Maybe some of them knew relatives of one another. Many were strangers. But they travelled along the same roads, together.

Today we reach Bethlehem together, again.

It's quiet at my house. The family Christmas will be tomorrow. I am supposed to take soup. But that's a different story that we don't know the ending to, even the beginning of, right now. I did retrieve, or more accurately they were thrust upon me, the five stock pots I had left in previous years at my sister's house after Thanksgiving dinner. It had become a tradition for me to go buy a new one early Thanksgiving morning when I couldn't find one. Apparently they were all at the Lowry's.

Yesterday was hectic with the visiting, the treasured last minute shopping trip, and two Christmas Eve services. But I like the quiet today. There is sadness for travellers missed this time around. But memories are a gift. Not an antidote for the sadness, but evidence of past blessings.

On this Christmas day I want to thank all of my fellow travellers who have shared the journey. It has not been a particularly easy one for me. Some of you knew that and tried to make me laugh, or smile. You fed me, entertained me, invited me, talked with me, sang with me, cried with me. Mostly you tolerated me.

But at the end of the journey, no matter what shape we are in, today we find again that God comes. Today we rest and give thanks in wonder. But soon, the journey together begins anew.

Have a wonder-filled Christmas Day.

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