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Friday, December 23, 2016

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It might be the favorite song of the Christmas season; a lullaby written to the Christ Child many years ago in a little mountain village in Austria. You probably know what it is. A village pastor, desperate for some music for his Christmas Eve service since the church organ wasn't working, thanks to a mouse eating through parts of the organ! His composition didn't stay in that village. It spread from the Alps around the world, and you can't have a Christmas season without hearing it – probably multiple times. The signature song of celebrating Christmas, "Silent Night." Every verse ends with those beautiful calming words, "Sleep in heavenly peace." Nice words. Not always the way it is.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

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The Christmas season isn't complete for my friend Brian if he doesn't sing in that wonderful combined choir presentation of one of the most glorious musical compositions of all time – Handel's "Messiah" – with its unforgettable "Hallelujah Chorus." For many, it's a special part of their Christmas season.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

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It was Christmastime and two-year old Timmy was sitting on his aunt's lap. He was ready to get down. His Aunt Gayle gave her usual requirement for letting him go, "You can't get down until you say the magic words." In case you've forgotten, the magic words are "pretty please with sugar and honey on the top." Right. Except for this time. Timmy turned to his aunt and he simply replied: "Unto you is born this day a Savior which is Christ the Lord."

Friday, December 16, 2016

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It was two weeks before Christmas. Our whole family was returning home from a Christmas party when a drunk driver decided he liked our side of the road better than his side. In a split second, he swerved right in front of us. The next second, I was looking at a hood that was folded up almost to the windshield. A few hours in the emergency room showed us that – miraculously – none of us had been seriously injured. The car, however, didn't do as well. It was totaled.

Monday, December 5, 2016

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"I don't wanna go." When our boys were little, that was sometimes what they'd tell me when we were out in the woods where it was like totally dark and a little scary. Well, not for me. I mean for them, of course. But I would reach for their hand and their little hand would instinctively reach up my way when we hit a dark stretch, and they'd grab on tight. Now the strangest thing happened. Once they had their father's hand, their feet started moving. They could go where they otherwise would never think about going as long as they had my hand.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

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It might have been the scariest moment of my life. I was only ten years old, but I remember it like it was yesterday. I was with my friends in Lake Michigan. We started out just wading, but they kept getting deeper – until the lake bottom dropped off sharply. We started swimming. I didn't know how, and I was too embarrassed to tell them. And I started taking on water fast. I mean, I went under once, I went under twice, and I was desperately thrashing around. As for my buddies, they thought I was just clowning around. I wasn't! I was drinking the lake. I could see that water burying me there like it was yesterday, and honestly, I was almost a goner. And then he came – the man from the shore who saw my predicament and he jumped in to do something about it. He had come to rescue me. I grabbed him with both hands. I hung onto him as if he were my only hope, because He was.

Monday, November 28, 2016

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My wife and I were staying at a little place that we had when we could get away from our work and from our ministry for a little while, and there were some next door neighbors there. We got to know them along the way, John and Vicky. And they stopped to ask us one day if they could pick some of our mushrooms. Yeah, for use in witchcraft.

Monday, November 21, 2016

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I was watching on TV an anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing, and my mind raced back to this unforgettable personal visit I had to the site of what was a very deadly tragedy. In a pre-September 11th America, that terrorist bombing of a Federal Office Building left most Americans in like stunned disbelief; at least it did me. My guide for my visit to the memorial made it really special and very moving, because he's a state trooper. He was one of the rescuers that day. His recollections of the joy of rescues and the heartbreak of lives lost I'm not going to ever forget.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

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Years ago a major art gallery sponsored a competition for painters. They were offering prizes for the best painting on the subject of "Peace". As the attenders browsed through the entries, most had decided that one certain painting was almost sure to win. It portrayed this lush green pasture under a vivid blue sky, with the cows grazing lazily and a little boy walking through the grass with his fishing pole over his shoulder. It really made you feel all peaceful. But it came in second. The painting that won was a big surprise. The scene was the ocean in a violent storm. The sky was ominous, the lightning was cutting across the sky, and the waves were crashing into the rock walls of the cliffs by the shore. No peace. But you had to look twice to understand what was going on. There, about halfway up the cliff was a birds' nest, tucked into a tiny hollow in the rock. A mother bird was sitting on that nest with her little babies, tucked underneath her, sleeping soundly. That was peace!

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

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After watching the World Trade Center as part of my skyline for many years, it hit really hard that awful September 11th to see those towers come crashing down and thousands of lives with them. The day after the first attack on the Trade Center, which was back in 1993, I was greeted by a TV crew as I got off a flight from Newark. Of all things, they asked me as a New Yorker how I felt after that bombing. And I could only think of one word, "vulnerable." That was my answer.

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