During Advent, Keith and I watch holiday shows, many of which are iterations of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol with the Ghost of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come. Each “ghost” makes me think of my own experiences and what they taught me. Dickens’ story arc. 

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Now well into the third season of life, I have much past to look back on. Christmas in life’s first stage: childhood and adolescence with my birth family.

Second stage marriage, motherhood, then single-parent Christmases, followed by twenty years of second-into-third season with Keith.

Lessons often come from hard times, failures, and struggles between and within each season of life. I’m grateful for every one of the “dangers, toils, and snares.” They made me a better person, more patient, more hopeful and, may I say, less selfish.

The Ghost of Christmas Present

The garland hangs from our loft balustrade; the Christmas tree shines in front of the great room French doors. Most presents have arrived and are wrapped, under the tree. I’m baking cookies: Keith’s favorites—his mom’s with green spearmint and red cinnamon gumdrops instead of raisins, and my grandmother’s ginger cookies—plus gluten-free eggnog snickerdoodles for church, and for our granddaughter M&M cookies with holiday green and red M&Ms, and a new cookie this year: chocolate brownie mint sandwich cookies. Lots of cookies, but not the varieties and numbers I used to bake when my children were growing up.

Some traditions remain. Others fall away or adjust to change.

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come

The fourth stage of life will come, as with winter, maybe soon, maybe years ahead. The season might be long or short. This is the reality for everyone. As I faced my Mother’s coffin in front of my parents’ gravestone in 2020. As the ghostly specter pointed Ebenezer Scrooge toward his.

For those in faith, this ghost is both a Memento Mori—remember death—and a Memento Dei. Remember God. Both reminders, even for pastors.

Alistair Begg had conducted many funeral services as part of his calling. But one day in a funeral home, he looked into a display coffin and had an overwhelming feeling of not wanting to be in there. Scrooge’s surely-not-me horror, even though Begg believes in the resurrection of the body and eternal life. Then he wondered, if I feel this way, what about non-believers? 

The point of Begg’s story: Our exit must be clear. Belief in Jesus Christ, the most fundamental, past-and-on-going, “better person” change in me.

The Ghost of Christmas Present Revisited

At the end of A Christmas Carol, we return to the present with the lessons from those three ghosts: past, current present, and yet to come. All remind us that our time is short, and what we do now matters. 

I revise our Christmas card list of recipients every year: some new friends added, some old friends and family no longer with us. And although I cherish past Christmases together with family, not all of our adult children are coming this year. They have their own lives, as they should. As Keith and I do.

Someday friends and family will cross our names off their Christmas card lists. Our earthly missions will have ended, and children will no longer visit us. But because of the birth and sacrifice of our dear Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, our exit is clear. 

I wish you a blessed Christmas with a gift of music, recorded last year.

Notes from Vanaprastha Podcasts on my YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@CaroleDuff