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It all started with an S.O.S. from a counselor at a conference where I was speaking. I'd just extended an invitation for young men and women who wanted to make a commitment to following Christ. There were many young people in the counseling room after that, and a counselor came back and said, "You've got to talk to Kelly. She's really hard."
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I'll bet you looked in the mirror this morning. I'll bet everyone can tell if you didn't. I know it can be depressing. I mean, you look in the mirror and think to yourself, "How can six hours do that much damage?" But at least you know what you're about to subject others to. So you put a sign on the bathroom door, "Slow - Construction Zone." You wash something, you comb something, you cover something, you brush something, you mousse something, you remove something - I mean you do something to something! And the world gets a better you and you prevent a lot of embarrassment thanks to Mr. Mirror.
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Well, I did it again! I managed to head right into a storm. Like the family vacation that got slammed by a hurricane. Yeah, the record rainstorm that swamped the airport when we took our daughter to college. Oh, and the Halloween "Snowmageddon" I think they called it. Yeah, we met that in Connecticut while we were there. Oh, then there was super storm Sandy in New York.
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In the movie Saving Private Ryan, Tom Hanks portrays this Army captain whose unit is assigned to find a private named Ryan in the dangerous aftermath of the D-Day Invasion. Ryan's brothers have both been killed in combat, and, unbeknownst to him, he is his mother's only surviving son. The mission involves the captain's unit in some brutal battles with the Germans. But Private Ryan is located and his life is saved by his captain who dies in the process. As Private Ryan attends to his mortally wounded rescuer, the captain speaks his last words in a hoarse whisper, "Earn this." The camera morphs from the young private's face to the face of an old man, standing by a white cross in the cemetery at Normandy. It is Ryan many years later, near the end of his life. He kneels by his captain's grave and he says, "Every day of my life, I've thought about what you said to me that day on the bridge. I've done my best. I hope at least in your eyes that I've lived up to all that you gave for me."
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Our sons really enjoyed being uncles for the first time some years ago. Their sister was kind enough to give them two boys to call them uncle. The youngest grandson at the time was four years old and he really enjoyed how his uncles played with him. They kept finding quarters in his nose or his ear. (You know the old magic trick.) Now, before I receive emails about this, rest assured that he had been carefully taught not to put anything in his nose or ear. The grandson that is, not my sons. But he loved it when his uncles pretended they found money there.
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It was one of those early spring days when we look out the window and see all kinds of beautiful birds. I saw this one that was actually pretty funny to watch. I'm not sure it was really funny for him. I think it was a bluebird and he was hovering near a rear window on our car, just fluttering back and forth, running into the glass over and over again. Now, he was obviously confused and disoriented. He was going nowhere, just fluttering, chattering, and crashing into the window. My wife said, "You know, I'll bet he sees himself in the glass, and that's what's got him acting crazy."
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There's a reason so many of us grandparents are overcoming our technophobia and venturing into cyberspace. We get to see pictures of our grandkids as soon as they're taken!
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You know, occasionally I see something enlightening in a little comic strip called "Family Circus." For example, there was this one where the house is a total disaster, and Mom walks in. The look on her face tells you that Mt. Vesuvius is about to blow. She has only one question, "Who did this?" Dad and the children are all innocent, of course. Apparently, the house must have just exploded and made itself a mess. But when Mom presses her question for who should be held responsible, one of the kids cleverly responds: "It was the ghost of 'not me'!"
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When I was a teenager, you could tell a girl was going steady by the fuzzy ring around her neck. And when our son started going with a girl, she just got his jacket; football jacket - the one he earned with blood, sweat, tears, and my money. But you could tell this girl was going with my son; the jacket had his name on it. I have to tell you though, it was slightly amusing. See, my son was a big lineman. She swam in that coat! And she wasn't the only one. We had a lot of girls in our school who were dating athletes, and they wore their jackets as a symbol, "Hey, I belong to him. He's mine." But it didn't look that great on most of them. No. You know, wearing what a man gives you for security may not be the best fit for you.
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So why did the American colonists win the Revolution? Well, it wouldn't surprise you if you saw how the redcoats fought. They fought battles in the old fashioned European way. They lined up in straight rows. The front row shoots. The next row rotates in while the others reload. Now, the colonists on the other hand didn't believe in lining up. They just came from everywhere. So those red uniforms all lined up in a rigid row? Well, that's like target practice. The colonists looked like they were disorganized, but their new way of fighting won the battle.
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A while back I got to explore the world my wife grew up in. And I've been going to a lot of beautiful back roads. One of those was this road that she walked every morning to the school bus. She was only five, and it's about two miles from where she lived to the main road. Fortunately, she was not the kind who bored her kids with, "When I was your age" stories. But boy this would have made a good one. That was a long, sometimes scary walk for a little girl alone. I can almost picture it when we were driving there.
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The dam broke. Those are words no one wants to hear if they live downriver from a dam. But that's exactly what happened near some small towns in southeast Missouri. It was just before daybreak when a dam on Taum Sauk Lake collapsed, sending a billion-gallon torrent of water streaming down the mountain and washing away homes and vehicles. When inspectors began to probe the reason for the collapse, they were dumbfounded by what they discovered. Instead of the granite that they had assumed for decades was the main material keeping the water in the reservoir, they found that the broken portion appeared to consist entirely of just soil and small rock. The breach occurred when an automated system mistakenly pumped too much water into the reservoir. But the reason for the disaster was a dam that was made of material that just couldn't stand the pressure.
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I love all the "joy to the world" and the Christmas electricity in the air. But maybe you remember a few Christmases ago, just down from the manger there were a lot of flags at half-staff for 26 Connecticut funerals. You probably remember all those little children gunned down so brutally just eleven days before Christmas. We live in a violent time, an angry time, conflicted, confusing. But it's still Christmas, and still the "most wonderful time of the year."
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One of the beautiful things to see on the news at Christmastime is soldiers coming home. Boy, we've seen it over the years, and coming from sometimes war torn places in the world. But there was a Christmas not too long ago, and that was not Amy's story. I had met her at a dinner I had spoken at and she was stressed. See, she had just gotten called up to go to Afghanistan at that time. So as the Christmas displays were lighting up everything, Amy was saying goodbye to the people she loved and leaving for the battlefield. By the way, God knows that feeling.
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Buttermilk Falls is a beautiful spot! That's what I had been told, and I was always open for a great new spot to go for a Sunday afternoon drive with the kids. So we drove out to the country and set out to discover the beauty of Buttermilk Falls. I did have to stop and ask directions a couple of times; I guess a lot of people didn't know where this great spot was.
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The lion is supposed to be the king of beasts. If there was a king of birds, I think it would have to be the eagle. I remember one point in our Native American ministry when we had arrived on this reservation. And as we were praying and preparing for our outreach there, someone pointed up toward the sky and said, "Look!" It was an eagle, soaring above our heads. We all felt as if God had sent that majestic bird to virtually affirm His care for us. It's hard not to be inspired watching an eagle soar. But if it were up to baby eagles, they probably never would. They love the softness of the eagle nest - until one day, when they're out walking around the nest, and Mother Eagle starts pulling the fur and the foliage out of the nest, leaving a bed of exposed sticks and stones. Suddenly, that comfy little nest isn't so comfy anymore. At that point, Mamma Eagle manages to get that eaglet out of the nest, onto her back, and into the sky. I'm sure that eaglet can't imagine just hanging out there in the sky all by himself, but that's what he was born for. He wasn't made for staying in a cozy nest, and neither are you. He was made to touch the sky, and so are you.
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Our friend told us that their youngest child, Ralphie, was like "Mr. Christmas" at their house. Very early every Christmas morning, he was everyone's alarm clock to get up and get going on those presents. That's what made this one Christmas so strange. Two weeks earlier, Ralphie was doing a little exploring in the closets while his parents were gone, and he found where they had hidden their presents! He couldn't resist. He opened this one bag and saw the major gift they had bought for him. Well, then came Christmas. Everyone slept later than they ever had on a Christmas morning because Ralphie didn't get up! Everyone was waiting impatiently around the Christmas tree, so Dad called up the stairs, "Ralphie, are you coming?" "Yeah," Ralphie replied. All the other kids were psyched as they opened their gifts. Not Ralphie. He opened his with little emotion, sort of a halfhearted thanks. Dad took him aside and said, "Ralphie, are you sick, man? You're always like Mr. Christmas around here!" And Ralphie explained why his "joy to the world" had gone. "Dad, the problem is I opened my gift early, and I ruined Christmas."
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The little kid with the round head and the pitiful tree! He's become a regular part of America's Christmas. Our kids watched "The Charlie Brown Christmas" when they were little, and that thing's been around so long, their kids love it and their parents never stopped loving it.
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My wife had gotten a really nice wedding gift for our friend. This beautiful little serving dish and some cut glass and some silver. One of those things people get only at their wedding, usually. Well, here's the problem. The girl had been married for four years, and four years later, well, we found the present. Yeah, we put it behind a chair to get it out of the way one day, and we found it four years later. We had planned to have our daughter take it to the wedding for us. Well, we totally missed the time that you should give a gift like that.
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I met Gary when we were both working with our local high school football team. He was a coach. I was the football. No, actually I was sort of an unofficial chaplain for the team. Gary was basically a happy guy, pretty laid back. Until "they" come up in the conversation. "They" are the men who were prisoners of war or missing in action in the Vietnam War. When it came to the subject of the MIA's who had not been accounted for, Gary wasn't laid back anymore. Suddenly he was really intense, really serious. See, Gary was one of a number of veterans determined to do whatever they could to make sure that we would do everything we could to locate them, and at least to give an account for missing soldiers.
