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It was like a dream come true. I'll tell ya', it was right after Christmas. I was in Manger Square in Bethlehem! Near the entrance to the Church of the Nativity, which is built over the cave believed to be the birthplace of the Son of God.
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When our 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 called her loneliest Christmas.
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Our oldest son had just graduated from a wonderful Christian college. Most of his good friends were headed for careers in business or the professions - which can be great places to serve God. But his calling was to go as a missionary to an Indian reservation among a people listed by some world prayer people as one of the most unreached people groups in North America. We knew it wasn't going to be easy. In fact, his first place to sleep at night was just a little storeroom, where he slept on a table so he wouldn't be a snack for the critters on the floor. Now, he was there pretty much on his own, and he was just starting to try to break down some walls and meet some of the tribal young people there. He'd been there a couple of weeks when he called us, I guess it was some morning at sunrise his time. He had driven about eight miles to find a phone to call. It was before cell phones! It was the kind of call that a parent doesn't forget. He said, "Mom, Dad, I've got to tell you I've probably never been so lonely in my whole life. In college, I had friends whenever I wanted them, I could go out on a date whenever I wanted to, I could get some money together when I needed to. But here, I have none of those things." To be honest, our parents' hearts were aching at this point. And then we were blown away by his unexpected conclusion. He said, "But I've got to tell you this, "I've never had such peace in my life. I'm where I was born to be, doing what I was born to do!"
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Well they called it "Avalanche" in one paper, "Tsunami" in another. "A cultural watershed moment." "A day of reckoning." Some of the words the news used to describe the seasons of relentless accusations of sexual misconduct by powerful men.
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The funeral plans for Matt were in the works. The Park Service had announced that Matt was one of five people who had been killed in a plane crash on a mountainside in Montana. The funeral never happened. Suddenly, Matt's bereaved parents heard the stunning news: although he had been badly injured, their son, along with one other Forest Service worker, had just been rescued alive, miles from the crash site. Rescue workers at the scene of the crash had concluded that the charred wreckage and the scattered human remains indicated that the crash had been "un-survivable." But amazingly, Matt and his fellow worker hiked for 29 hours, often in subfreezing temperatures, until they reached a highway where a motorist picked them up. One news magazine called it, "A Miracle in the Snows of Montana" (Newsweek, October 4, 2004).
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A dog and bubbles: ah, there's an amusing combination! I think my wife discovered this when our little Shih tzu dog was just a puppy, a new member of our family, and she was kind of still discovering her world. My wife went out and bought one of those containers of bubbles, you know the one with the little wand.
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You may remember when the word window just referred to that opening in a wall that kind of, you know, you 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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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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If you live on the East Coast, there is one word that's pretty sure to get your attention - hurricane. Yep! I'll tell you, Hurricane Hugo was one of those mega storms that really got our attention. You could watch the news for several nights before Hugo arrived. And they would show you this cyclonic circle inching across the weather map toward, well at that point, an uncertain destination. Half a million people were evacuated from Florida to the Carolinas, not knowing where that destructive little circle on the map was going to land. Finally, it became clear that Hugo's 130-mile-an-hour winds were going to slam ashore at Charleston, South Carolina.
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It was a crazy Christmas at our house! Everybody in our family, three generations, is really excited about giving gifts to the others, and getting them. Well, sometimes our festivities aren't quite like "peace on earth." Such was this particular Christmas. The chatter was loud, the laughter was hearty, and the buzz was intense. Or, in the case of a two-year old grandchild at the time, it was just confusing. My wife had this finely-tuned grandma's radar, and she noticed that our little grandson seemed a little dazed by all this happy Christmas crossfire. So you know what? She just quietly slipped to the floor. (We didn't even notice.) She got down where he was and began working patiently with him on assembling a toy he had just opened. That precious scene had been going on for a few minutes I think before any of us even noticed in the chaos. But there was Grandma, quietly creating this island of sanity in a sea of craziness.
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One of the milestone days of any kid's life is the day they get their driver's license. It's usually cause for great excitement and celebrating. It's been about a century, I think, since I first got mine. They traded in the horse and buggy. But not long ago, I was a teenager again, celebrating getting my license. No, I hadn't lost it. The law didn't take it away. My license had expired, and the motor vehicle department had mailed my renewal form when my wife and I were on the road during a time of extended ministry.
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Over the years, there were two words that could really stir up some action at our house. They go like this, "Let's romp!" Yeah, you have to understand I was a father of two sons, and that meant that Dad is ready for some "rough housing" with one or maybe two sons. But I learned I had to be careful, because then one day they got to be my size. So I didn't say that much any more. No.
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Our son-in-law was visiting his grandfather in Florida, with a nice Florida view outside his bedroom window - grapefruit trees. It wasn't all a happy view though. Many of the grapefruit were actually rotting on the ground. His grandfather wasn't up to harvesting them anymore. So those grapefruit got all ready to be picked and no one came, and they dropped to the ground and died.
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I used to work with our high school football team quite a bit, and their practices were in full swing. And I was talking with one of the soon to be freshman football players, and he said, "Ron, it seems like just yesterday we were having our first practices back in the summer." And I talked to some seniors, and then they said, "Ron, weren't we just freshmen? How did we get here so fast?"
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Millions of Americans are on the move right now. It's part of the annual Thanksgiving migration. They'll get to experience turkey on the table today and turkeys in those traffic jams!
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You can find it at a football game. You can find it in a concert. There are thousands of people drawn to a gathering, and they're talking excitedly about some star they've come to see or hear. Hands and voices are raised in praise and all eyes are on the star, or the stars. In fact, if you want to get people really agitated, use the name of their favorite musician in vain. Yeah, or say something negative about their favorite athlete. Uh-huh. I mean, people who might be relatively passive about minor issues like nuclear war, or abortion, or people starving to death are majorly aggressive about their heroes. I mean, we're excited about our favorite musician, or politician, or sports star, even our favorite spiritual celebrity...maybe too excited.
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You know, flying commercial airlines isn't as much fun as it used to be. A lot of people who have to fly seem to agree with that. There are overbooked flights, and there's long lines at security, and canceled flights, and crowded flights, and equipment problems, and all kinds of frustrating delays. If you don't like something about the way the airline is performing, guess who usually gets all the grief? I've seen it happen at the airport over and over again. That poor ticket agent.
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Honest, we really didn't mean to be in northern Kentucky on Kentucky Derby weekend. But obviously, thousands of people did! In trying to avoid flooding as we traveled, that's exactly where we managed to be. So there we were in the middle of rampant Derby Fever. I didn't bet on anybody, and I refuse to wear one of those floppy hats.
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Three New York City boys broke into a zoo there, and one of them climbed into the polar bear area to swim in the moat. He was attacked by those bears. He was brutally killed. I was intrigued by an interview with the Park's Commissioner of New York City who said afterwards, "You know, bears are portrayed to children as friendly animals, even as cuddly animals. We've got Winnie the Pooh, Paddington Bear, and Smokey the Bear. But the Park's Commissioner went on to say, "Actually, they're carnivorous killers." He was right. I mean look, the image of bears is cuddly; the reality is deadly. And not just in bear country.
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I had just finished speaking for a Christian leaders' gathering that was part of the countdown to a Franklin Graham Festival. The setup team there was in their early days of working together on this massive mobilization. The team leader thought it would be a good idea to get his team together for a few minutes after the meeting ended, and he invited me to join them. Then he handed me a cluster of helium balloons tied together. Suddenly, I felt like I'd gone from speaker to circus clown. And, you know, I've read Winnie the Pooh stories to our kids enough that I couldn't help but picture Pooh Bear being carried into the sky by a bunch of balloons like that.
