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Mystery rides were part of growing up at our house. Usually it was a Sunday afternoon, and I'd pile our three kids, who were little then and never will be again, into our car for a ride. I think we explored every corner of our area. And as we did, we discovered over the years, a lot of great things. But I've got one son who's a lot like me. He wants to know the plan before we leave.
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We took one of our granddaughters to the Christmas Festival at a theme park when she was two. And she loved it! There were lights everywhere, exciting music performances and a great Christmas parade. But there was one thing that impressed her so much, and she talked about it all year long - the Living Nativity. We got to see a portrayal of the angels' appearance to the shepherds, the visit of the Wise Men, and best of all, Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus in the Manger. From that night on through the year, when we would mention that theme park, the first thing she associated with it was "Jesus" no matter what time of year it was.
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Having had two teenage boys who loved football, there was one Christmas gift that was a sure hit - a new leather football. And seeing how it was a rare 60-degree Christmas morning, do you think we were going to just sit around the Christmas tree and admire that ball? No! They went right outside and did what you're supposed to do with a football.
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Right after Thanksgiving, I make my annual pilgrimage to the Christmas corner of our garage. I did it last year, and I brought out Christmas. Now, we've been accumulating ornaments and decorations for a lot of years now, and it's always a big deal for the family when they make their annual re-entry; all those decorations come back into our life again. You know, the house is actually alive with Christmas right now. Well, I mean for a while. But before very long, I will reverse that exercise, re-pack everything in their aging boxes, and put them back in storage for another year.
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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, of course, was pushing 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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There's just no better time to have a baby boy than Christmastime. My parents did, we did. Not my wife and me! That would really be a Christmas miracle! No, it was our son and daughter-in-law.
And our family was able to say, with the ancient prophecy of Jesus' coming, "to us a child is born; to us a son is given" (Isaiah 9:6). And what a baby boy he was, charging into the world at ten pounds, ten ounces!
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The occasion was a city-wide art contest. They were told to paint paintings on the subject of "Peace." Well, you can understand the judges were attracted to this beautiful "pastural" scene that a local painter had painted. You probably didn't know that was a word, "pastural." Well, it was a green pasture with puffy white clouds and this beautiful blue sky and a little boy going by with a fishing pole over his shoulder, little quiet brooks and birds flying around. That got second place.
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The barber shop I used to go to was definitely a man's world, and you got more than a haircut when you went there; you got an ear full. See, something seems to happen when men sit down in that barber chair. It's as if they were administered truth serum, and they start to suddenly talk openly about their relationships, and their marriage, and their kids, and their frustrations, whether you want to hear it or not.
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I think it had to be one of the most like insecure afternoons of my life. Our committee had been meeting for two days at this hotel. Two days straight; I mean two days straight. We had a slave-driving chairman, and finally he said, "All right, guys, how about a couple of hours in the pool?" "All right! The pool! The sauna! We deserve a break today."
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We say a lot of things we don't really mean. For example, when we sign our letters, sincerely yours—now have you really been sincere about everything you said sincerely yours about? Or how about this one, the check is in the mail—well, sometimes yes, sometimes no; maybe just an intention. Here's a classic one that we often don't really mean, "Hey, let's get together sometime; we'll give you a call." How many times have you been told that, and then how many times did it really happen?
