No More a Stranger nor a Guest
No more a stranger nor a guest, but like a child at home
I know what I want for Christmas and I know I can’t have it.
I want to wake up Christmas morning with my parents and siblings but also with my wife and children all including the adult children and my closest friends. I want to be simultaneously father and son. I want that golden intimacy—I am tempted to say heavenly intimacy—of just a small group, but I also want all of my intimates to be there. IT can’t be done. As you go on, you accumulate too many intimates to be intimate with them all at once.
So even in the abstact its impossible. In practice, even more so. I want that golden peace, and I can’t have it with nigh on 50 people crowded into one house.
I suppose that is one of my images of heaven. It’s Christmas morning with everyone you love. Your presents are great and they all love the ones you got for them, and everyone is at peace. No one gets bored. You have all the time in the world. Your Father is there.
Always Christmas, never winter.
seriouslypleasedropit
December 2, 2024
Today I will buy a Christmas tree, from the family business of a couple I minister to, who are on hard times.
Rozy
December 2, 2024
I’ve often wondered how heaven will work. We’re told that we’ll be there with our families–Um, which family? I’m a daughter and a wife/mother. How can I be a child in my parent’s family and at the same time a mother in my own family. And then, my children are married (most of them) and have their own families. Who is going to live in whose mansion? It’s just mind boggling. My own personal reconciliation is that we’ll simply be connected to everyone but live as couples populating the worlds we create.
I like your image of Christmas morning with everyone, peaceful and loving. And especially the never winter part.
E.C.
December 2, 2024
One of my most golden memories is gathering with Grandma, my uncles and aunts, cousins and siblings, (not all, but many) around my Grandma’s piano, to sing until our voices all gave out. We did it every Thanksgiving, and General Conference, and Christmas we could possibly until Grandma died – and this year, my sister-in-law revived the tradition. We only sang three carols, but it was wonderful.
That – the harmony and melody, the sense of peace and absolute joy – that’s what I will always think of when I read or hear the phrase ‘heavenly choirs’. Because although the moments before and after had their share of snips and snaps and more-or-less friendly altercations, for that hour or two we were all engaged in something together, and it didn’t matter if your voice wasn’t great or you made a mistake on the piano; it truly was worship made joyful.
Grandma would sit in her favorite rocking chair with her lap cat, Otter (all of her cats were named Otter), and smile blissfully as she listened. The one song we always had to play around Christmas was Star Bright; I’m so glad it was included in the new hymnbook.
Marilyn
December 18, 2024
I want the same thing. I want my babies in my arms and at the same time I want them to be 4, delighted with everything, and 11, in on the secrets some of the younger kids’ presents and excited about it, and 25, giving their own first Christmas gifts to the 2-year-olds. And I want my future grandbabies in my arms too. All of that. “Nothing good is ever lost”—President Packer promised it!
G.
December 18, 2024
I have very much enjoyed reading your responses.