Lights dim.

Rooms are stilled.

Joy has faded. Some grief has shown its tallowed face.

This is Christmas still.

God didn't come intermittently.

God came to reside.

Not only a holy night,

but also the dreary morning following,

the aching afternoon,

the dragging days seeping through our existence.

Today may feel anticlimactic.

You aren’t missing the festivals.

Incarnation doesn't lurk in shadows.

He comes to stay.

      Still Christmas by Barton Breen

Worship is held in the Chapel - enter off 19th Ave. at Cambie St.