Early Sunday morning, my dad passed through death into the glorious presence of the Lord.
His faith became sight.
And we grieve. But not without hope.
For he is Home with our Good Shepherd and King.
Truly resting.
In peace.

Early Sunday morning, my dad passed through death into the glorious presence of the Lord.
His faith became sight.
And we grieve. But not without hope.
For he is Home with our Good Shepherd and King.
Truly resting.
In peace.

Christmas. Worship Him.
In the loud or silent.
Amid crowds or all alone.
At the table overflowing or simply breaking bread.
Surrounded by decorations and gifts, wrapping and ribbons. Or without all the fanfare.
In your home or at the church or elsewhere.
Worship Him.

Sometimes troubles flow. Underneath.
A running series of concerns. Questions darting here and there.
Waking in the night. Persistent through the day. Disquiet, rhythmic.
Children’s needs. Aging parents. Friends’ struggles.
Natural disasters. State of the world.
Future plans, uncertain.
You name it.
