“For God is my witness, how deeply I miss all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus. And I pray this: that your love will keep on growing in knowledge and every kind of discernment, so that you may approve the things that are superior and may be pure and blameless in the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ to the glory and praise of God.” (CSB – Read the chapter)
It’s the third Friday of the season of Advent, and that means it’s time for our final Song of the Season for this year. Christmas is a wonderful time for many, many people. There are just so many different things to look forward to. But it can also be hard. It can be hard when those elements weren’t ever present in someone’s life. It can be hard when they once were there but are gone now. For most people, there is at least one memory of a Christmas past when everything was perfect. It probably really wasn’t at the time – no time ever is – but it is frozen in our memories in such a way that all we see is the good. Christmas is often a time when we long for that. Today’s song takes us there. Pull out your tissues because this one might draw up some tears. Let’s listen to Freeze the Frame by Michael W. Smith.
One of the superpowers of music is that it can let us express emotions and feelings in ways that words alone just can’t get the job done. I love Christmas with my family. I love our traditions. I love knowing that my own kids will pick up some of these things and transport them into their own families one day. Yet Christmas is a time when nostalgia is thickest in our hearts and minds. I can’t help during this time of year but to think back to Christmases of the past.
There’s no doubt much I don’t remember, but there is much I do remember as well. I remember Christmas Eve services. I remember gathering with my mom’s family on Christmas Eve, especially when my cousins were there. I remember having only one person open a gift at a time and being so anxious for my turn to come around again. I remember being delighted at finding just what I was hoping for on Christmas mornings. I remember gathering with my dad’s family at my grandmother’s house for a big, noisy, and wonderfully chaotic breakfast and present opening and a walk around the lake behind her condo. I remember songs and food and decorating. Perhaps you have your own set of memories.
One of the great challenges of all of this is knowing that time is constantly passing. What was has gone, and the future is unfolding right before our eyes. It’s tempting to wish we could sometimes just freeze the whole thing so that we could enjoy what was good a little bit longer. That is the desire that Smith captures in this song that’s not really a Christmas song per se, but which really doesn’t make sense at any other time of the year.
As understandable as this desire is, and even as good as it is, the hope we have because of the baby whose birth we celebrate is that even when we have had to say goodbye to traditions and memories and people from our past, there is a day coming when all those who have been gathered in Christ will be together again. What exactly that day will be like we don’t know. Will we still celebrate Christmas and enjoy family times like we do now? That’s hard to say. But what we know for sure is that it will be good. It will be good beyond our wildest dreams. And it won’t ever come to an end.
As much as we would like to freeze the frame on our memories and even on experiences in the present, that’s not possible. But there is a day coming when what is good will stay forever, and all the brokenness that takes away from it will be gone forever. Jesus’ arrival heralded the coming of that day. That’s worth celebrating.
Without further ago, then, here is Freeze the Frame by Michael W. Smith.
The Nexus 