All Is Well
“All is well, all is well
Angels and men rejoice
For tonight darkness fell
Into the dawn of love’s light
Sing A-le
Sing Alleluia
All is well, all is well
Let there be peace on earth
Christ is come, go and tell
That He is in the manger
Sing A-le
Sing Alleluia
All is well, all is well
Lift up your voice and sing
Born is now Emmanuel
Born is our Lord and Savior
Sing Alleluia
Sing Alleluia
All is well”
Tradition informs our lives in so many ways. Into the celebration of Christmas, we each introduce our own ways of making the season special—a way that grants particular meaning.
I write this missive sitting in an old Georgian merchant’s house in Edinburgh at 1 o’clock in the morning after walking home from the Christmas Watchnight Service at St Giles Cathedral. That much breaks wildly from tradition, but the fact that I’m in a room lit only by the lights of the Christmas tree is a warm and familiar tradition that immediately connects me across the miles with family back home.
Many years ago now, we introduced a simple but special tradition. Just before everyone heads off to bed on Christmas Eve, we each find a comfortable spot in the family room, the only light from the Christmas tree, and listen silently to All Is Well by Michael W. Smith.
Tonight we had to do this via FaceTime at 10 pm our time and 2 pm fir Will & Maegan in Salinas, Karina in Paso Robles, Jeff & Madi in SLO, and Matt & Erica in San Diego. It wasn’t exactly the same, but the song brought us all together, at least for those few minutes, to listen in quiet and be assured that—for tonight darkness fell, into the dawn of love’s light. It still moves Amanda and I to tears because we want nothing more for our family to know they are deeply loved by us and God, and so, All Is Well.
We love each and every one of you with all our hearts. We miss you terribly—especially being apart at Christmas. Yet we draw strength through our tradition.
