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I'm making a list of great books someone needs to write. One is called "How to Motivate Kids to Work". I'd have bought that one when the kids were growing up. I have to be fair to our guys, they pitched in a lot. But sometimes I could have used a book like that.
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It was the biggest event of the year in the little town of Cornwall; the annual Christmas pageant, starring many of the people of the town. When it came time for casting the various parts, every parent was pushing for their son or daughter to be included. On audition day, it didn't take long to match every part with just the right person.
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Like most Americans, I just about O.D. on the news. No matter what it's about! It could be news about elections, or some economic problem, or eruptions in the Middle East. It's all important, but it's not exactly in the "joy to the world" category.
So I absolutely loved the feel-good story out of New York City that went viral across Facebook a couple of years ago. It was about the friendly policeman and the freezing homeless man. And it had "Christmas Story" written all over it.
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When my son was in college I think his favorite Christmas song was "I'll be Home for Christmas." That might be every college student's favorite song. He started counting the days, the hours, and the minutes until it was time to go home. But none of our kids have ever experienced anything like what my wife calls her loneliest Christmas.
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The short story writer, Bret Hart, gives us a story out of the Old West about a town called Roaring Camp. I think it's a story that brings the miracle of Christmas into very sharp focus into our lives today and I want to share it with you.
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The Christmas season always involves these big shopping decisions, "What should we get for the kids?" Well, our children over the years were always helpful enough to provide us with a list. Now it's kids and grandkids. And now it's our grandchildren that really have great lists.
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In some ways I'm glad the three little Hutchcrafts aren't little any more. When they were, the day before Christmas always meant assembling some "easy to assemble" toy. I hate those words! It wasn't easy to assemble. Oh, and the day after, oh that's nice. It usually meant fixing what was not easy to assemble in the first place. It seems like the day after Christmas there was always something was broken. Actually, there's some fixing that needs to happen before Christmas.
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The sign said Antique Auto Show, so my wife and I decided that we'd take fifteen minutes and stop at this car dealership and look at the antique autos. Really we were interested in seeing the ones that, you know, like went back to the 50s and 60s. There was this one, sleek, black '66 Mustang that had a flawless exterior, a rich interior, the hood was open so you could look at the horsepower underneath.
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Ellis Island was the first piece of America that millions of immigrants ever saw – ever touched. Perhaps it was that way for somebody in your family. Ellis Island was the point of entry for all the immigrants coming through New York; a little island in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor.
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A boy from the south side of Chicago; a girl from the Ozarks and they lived happily ever after. It's the story of my wife and me. As we approached our wedding day several years ago, (ahem!) it was a week after our college graduation. We had a lot of love, but no money to speak of.
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We were trying to teach some young leaders the importance of teamwork. One of the exercises I used was to have them put together a puzzle. (I thought it was a bright idea.) You tear off a page of a magazine, tear it into pieces, dump it into the middle of each small group, and see who could put their pictures together first. It didn't work too well. See, I forgot one little thing. I forgot to give them a copy of the complete picture so they could see what it should look like when it was all together. Duh! Now, I've tried to work on one of those big, many-pieces puzzles myself, and I've had the same frustration because I didn't know where the top of the puzzle box top was. It was really hard to put the pieces together when the complete picture wasn't there.
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My wife hates snakes! Okay, let's just get that out there. Her skin crawls almost at the mention of those critters. Of course, growing up in the Ozarks didn't exactly help her learn to appreciate them. And then there were the weeks she spent as a counselor at a camp deep in the woods. Oh, man, that really didn't help.
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Christians that were in Russia anytime during the 1950s to about 1990 were familiar with the voice of Nick Leonovich. For decades before the Iron Curtain came down, Nick had been faithfully broadcasting the gospel in Russian to his people. When the doors began to open, and Nick would travel through Russia and meet those Russian believers finally, a lot of them would stop him and they'd say, "Hey, I know your voice! You led me to Christ." Wow!
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You remember when the word window just referred to that opening in a wall that kind of you then covered with glass? Well, NASA changed all that. A window is still an opening, but the folks at Cape Canaveral use that word to refer to that brief period of time where everything is right for the launch: the wind is okay, the weather's okay, they've checked it at the Cape, they've checked it down range, and the atmospherics are okay for communication. The conditions have been predicted for the time of return and they look good, too. But the window will pass soon. If you're going to get this thing off the ground, go when the window's open.
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The occasion was a citywide art contest. They had been told to paint paintings with the theme "Peace". Well, the judges were understandably attracted to this beautiful pastoral scene that a local artist had painted. It was a green pasture, puffy white clouds, a beautiful blue sky, a little boy going by with his fishing pole over his shoulder, and a quiet brook and some birds. That got second place.
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When I was in junior high school, we usually bought one copy of the local newspaper every day. Until the day I won the County Spelling Bee! Yeah, I can do autographs later. I'm sure you're very impressed. Well, that day my parents bought about twenty copies of the local newspaper. What was the difference? Well, my name was in it this time!
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It's about that time of year when you start getting all those Christmas letters from people. You know, all those family letters that tell you about all the things they've done: Junior's in Boy Scouts, Emily's in cheerleading. I've noticed there's one recurring word; it's almost like a theme that runs through all those letters. It's that little four-letter word "busy." Everybody tells you how busy they are all year long. "I'm busy, busy, busy and I have a busy, busy, busy family."
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Christmastime is kind of like time to get things in shape; especially around the house. Most of us become very motivated when December arrives in terms of getting things cleaned up. We dust corners and clean areas that haven't been touched for like eleven months. Trouble spots in the carpet that had gone unnoticed, suddenly we notice them and we work on them. That wall in the kitchen that needed some touch-up paint, it becomes a priority. We begin decorating things! Houses are suddenly in better shape than they've been in all year, especially since last Christmas. Christmas is shape-up time for houses…and people.
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When I got my wife a bread maker for Christmas one year, I'm not sure who that present was really for-was it for her or me? I love the smell; I love the taste of fresh bread. I mean, who doesn't? She just pours the mix into the bread machine, punches in all the proper settings, leaves it so it can begin its wonderful three-hour process of becoming fresh baked bread. Of course, we get busy and we forget it's baking sometimes. But we don't have anything to do with it anyway. It's just silently getting done.
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Our friends were kind enough to loan my wife and me their second home where we could get away for a couple days. Now, when you're in somebody else's home, look, you want to be on your best behavior. You know, make sure you don't break anything, and leave it like you found it. Well, I was having a little bit of difficulty getting the front door un-jammed; or unlocked. My wife said, "What are you doing?" And I jokingly said, "I couldn't get it unlocked, so I'm just pushing it open." She said, "No, no. Don't do that." Now, there's a reason we had that little dialogue. Yeah, it's called history.
