Perfect. Just perfect!

Every year I have this ritual. Following the last Christmas Eve worship service, I drive home alone in the silence of the car, thinking about all the people filling up the sanctuary, the old faces with whom I reconnected, the beautiful music, and rehashing the sermon in my head.

When I get home, Gretchen is there, still awake, preparing the Swedish pancake mix for Christmas morning breakfast with the whole family. We hug and kiss, and then talk about the services, who was there, what happened, how it went.