Know That You Are Loved

by Wyatt Sheeder

When I think of Christmas I think of all the regular things: pageants, decorating, parties, too many sweets, and the music. The last part is my favorite. Ever since my 3rd grade teacher Ms. Hegstrom strummed her guitar and sang “Silver Bells” every day in December before class, I was hooked! I’m a sponge when it comes to songs and have collected many favorites over the years. When we decorated the tree with my mom, she would always play Mannheim Steamroller music. I wax nostalgic when I remember this but can’t quite get myself to listen to it now (sorry Mom!).

When I first moved to Chicago and was entering the third month of my job as a hospice music therapist, a friend gave me Bette Midler’s Christmas album. God bless her for finally giving in to all her Gentile fans. Mazel tov, Bette, mazel. “I’ll be Home For Christmas” came on and I had to pull the car to the side of the interstate as the tears obstructed my vision. This came out of nowhere, as I’m not really a crier. Looking back, it was probably the carryover from a lot of changes: moving from Iowa to Chicago, my first few patients dying, the cold weather and short days. But I don’t think my tears were sad ones. They were emotional, yes, but more than that they were honest. Good, honest tears. I had a good cry right there on the side of I-94 and I thought of my mom, my family, my friends, and of my home.

I thought of my little Guthrie Center, Iowa where my father and grandmother and almost my entire extended family live. I could envision Main Street and I could imagine myself driving into town late just before Christmas. I closed my eyes and could picture the snow falling, the same decorations on the light poles, and the bank sign scrolling a greeting, the time, temperature, and grain prices. And I realized that home didn’t mean the same thing anymore. “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.” The home in my dreams was different. It included people who had died and places that had changed. It included a magic and wonder that I seemed to have lost.

I wiped my eyes and carefully pulled back onto the interstate. I finished seeing my patients for the day. On my way home, I bought the ingredients to make cookies and I listened to more Christmas songs. I opened the door to my vintage 3rd floor walk-up apartment in Portage Park. I looked around at my new home and thought to myself that it wouldn’t always be like this, just me. And then I closed my eyes and relaxed, knowing that home was where I felt loved and comfortable and known.

Whatever comes to mind for you this time of year, know that you are loved by the Church and its people. You are treasured and known ,and wherever you call home; Lincoln Park, Bucktown, Lakeview, Uptown or your version of Guthrie Center, Holy Covenant is always there for you. It is a place that honors your yesterday, strengthens you today, and propels you toward tomorrow. Blessings and thanks to my Holy Covenant family. You have enriched my life in so many ways.

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 24th, 2009 at 1:00 am and is filed under Advent Devotional. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.