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Friday, December 21, 2007

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If you made a list of places you might like to be for Christmas, the hospital emergency room probably wouldn't be on your list. Mine either. But that's what happened the Christmas that our sons got a new football. It was this extraordinary 60-degree Christmas day, so we had to go out and play with that new ball, of course. I went deep for a pass. I caught it on the end of my finger! And the next thing I knew, I was spending a painful Christmas in the emergency room getting a broken finger repaired. Nice way to spend Christmas, huh?

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

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This time of year I think back to that unforgettable night of the annual Christmas musical at our college. All the school choirs were there to present a powerful musical evening. The backdrop of the stage was all black, to simulate the night of Jesus' birth. And as the choir sang, costumed Christmas story characters would re-enact some of those familiar scenes on the stage. The one I'll never forget is "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night." My friend Al was the angel. The shepherds were all shepherding on the stage, and Al was to step out of the black velvet night and onto this little platform to announce Jesus' birth - good plan. I guess being coordinated is not a qualification for being an angel. See, Al stepped out onto that platform and promptly lost his balance and fell out of the night sky and right onto the shepherds. Now, that is being touched by an angel! But on his way down, Al did manage to get his opening line out, "Fear not!" Well, that is the important part.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

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It's the Christmas season, and everywhere you go these days you see those brown trucks - it's UPS running everywhere, delivering Christmas surprises to people. Those UPS drivers work really hard this time of year - lots of long hours to get everything where it's supposed to be in time for Christmas. I expect they sleep pretty well at night. Even though they have a big job, at least they don't have to go out and buy all those packages that they're bringing to people's doors. Their job is just to deliver what someone else has paid for.

Monday, December 17, 2007

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Every class has its clown, and Johnny was one of those. He was one of the first teenagers I met when we moved to New Jersey years ago, and he was always fun to be around. There was always a joke. He was always a clown - always the life of the party. That's why his call late one night came as such a shock to me. I was still a little bleary from being awakened by the phone ringing when I heard him say, "This is Johnny. I called to say goodbye. You're the only one I thought it was worth saying goodbye to." I didn't like the sound of that goodbye, so I asked him to tell me where he was, and he had actually broken into my office to call me. I asked him to wait there until I could get there. We talked most of the night. No clown, no jokes, no life of the party that night. The life of the party was about to check out of the party for good. Johnny poured out the pain that he was feeling from a messed up family and some disappointing relationships. He'd been on his way to kill himself. Thank God, by dawn, he had decided to live. And I knew there was a darkness now that had been hiding all along behind a mask that said, "No problems."

Friday, December 14, 2007

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Our son and daughter-in-law own a little piece of rhodochrosite since a recent western vacation. (I hope I'm saying that right.) And with the stone came the story. Their host told them about the men in search of gold who didn't care much about this rock they found on their way to the gold. Initially, they just tossed it aside. But they noticed that embedded in the granite was an attractive rose-colored stone. As they refined it, the rare and rich, almost ruby-like color of that stone revealed its beauty. There was a time when it was just used for making driveways or even just discarded. But today a relatively few ounces are worth thousands of dollars.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

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If you were the baby of the family, you may be able to relate to the occasional complaint filed by our youngest who's now all grown up. He kiddingly talks about how many pictures were taken of his older sister, then his older brother, and how we seemed to run out of film by the time he came along. You know, the last-in-line complex. When reflecting on another sibling comparison it led him to a happier conclusion. He said, "You built this big dollhouse as a gift for my sister. Then you built this big, fully loaded barn for my brother. Then you built a general store for me - about half the size of the dollhouse and the barn." At first, he thought, "Here we go again. They'll run out of gas by the time they get to me." But then, he said, he noticed that his store had something neither of his siblings' gifts had - a sign on the store with his name, identifying him as the proprietor. Our son said, "You know, I felt really good when I realized that what you gave me had my name on it!" Let's hear one for the baby!

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

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When our family was with us one Christmas, I walked into the family room and saw our cute little two-year-old granddaughter with a sword in her hand. Sounds shocking, I know. But before you begin to question the parental competence of our children, I should tell you that it was a kind of sword I had never seen before. The "blade" was made entirely of feathers. It turns out that on her favorite children's TV show is this happy pirate who carries one of these feather swords. We tried the sword on me - it doesn't hurt. It tickles. I'd hate to be in any kind of a real battle with it. It's a little difficult to be intimidating as you're waving your feather sword!

Monday, December 10, 2007

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A friend of ours is an avid hunter; so much that he's been known to skip church occasionally during duck hunting season. He's well known in the church, so the pastor notices when he's not there. With a twinkle in his eye, our friend explained recently how he's prepared to handle pastoral questions like, "Where were you on Sunday?" He said he's named the duck blinds where he hides to hunt those birds. One is named "The Word." The other is named "Prayer." So when he's asked where he was on Sunday, he can simply answer, "I was in 'The Word,'" or, "I was in 'Prayer.'"

Friday, December 7, 2007

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I was learning to ride a bicycle, and my dad was my teacher. Across the street from our apartment was a schoolyard as big as a city block. Like most city schoolyards, it was all concrete, no grass. In the middle of that big expanse was the only obstacle for a bike-riding rookie - a big old metal flagpole. But how could anyone run into that when he had the entire rest of the schoolyard to learn in? It can be done. There I was, wobbling along, trying to learn to keep my balance on two wheels with my dad just behind me. Suddenly I heard him saying, "Turn, boy." My hands were frozen to the handlebars and I was sure turning either way meant crashing on that hard concrete. Again, "Turn, son!" I was closing in on the flagpole. Now it was a desperate cry from the lips of a disbelieving father, "Turn or you're going to hit the pole!" Bonngggg! I hit the pole. I still have the chipped tooth to prove it.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

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I was visiting Rome, and I encountered this archway along the Via Appia. It's one of the many such structures that are still there 2,000 years after they were built. But what caught my eye about this one was the three-word Latin question carved in the archway as an inscription. It simply says, "Domine, quo vadis?" At last, those two years of high school Latin were going to be useful! It means, "Lord, where are You going?" It goes back to a legend about the Apostle Peter as he was feeling led by God to go to Rome. Knowing it was going to be dangerous, even life-threatening to go there, Peter needed to be sure that's where God wanted Him. The legend says that he encountered the risen Christ there on the Via Appia, and he wanted to know only one thing from his Lord, "Domine, quo vadis? Lord, where are You going?" Jesus was going to Rome. Then that's where Peter was going!

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