I don’t know about you, but my childhood Christmases weren’t all teddy bears and ballet slippers. It was also the season when practical needs came wrapped in holiday paper. One item I could pretty much count on to make an annual appearance under the tree was a new scarf.
Do you remember two-part presents? When it was your turn to select a gift to open, an adult would say something like, “You can open that, but if you do, you need to open this package, too. If they aren’t opened together, they won’t make much sense.”
For a child, Christmas is a wondrous time--with most of the wonders wrapped and waiting under the Christmas tree.
As if it were yesterday, I remember those last days before Christmas from my childhood. The tree, decorated and sparkling with lights, stood in its traditional corner. Underneath were gifts in all shapes and sizes wrapped and ready to be opened. I knew some of them would be practical; but others would delightful surprises. I would make frequent detours past the living room to catch a glimpse of that scene just to assure myself that it was all real.
“You know, it’s all about love.” A simple statement uttered by a simple man, my dad, as he lay languishing on his deathbed. After all his years of working, serving and living, he had discovered the importance of life.
After the flood, God commanded Noah and his sons to be fruitful and multiply; spread out over the earth and multiply on it (Genesis 9:7). In Genesis 10, the genealogy of Noah and his sons confirms they were successful in the job of multiplying.
A torrential flood swept through my hometown when I was a teenager. My grandparents lived in a house that backed up to a creek. As the deluge of rain fell, the creek quickly filled and overran its banks. My grandparents’ anxiety rose in proportion to the rising water in the house. They climbed on furniture higher and higher, fearing the worst. A tractor appeared at their door. They were rescued by climbing in the front-end loader. My grandparents were safe from the flood but remained haunted by their experience the rest of their lives. They anxiously monitored the weather and the level of the creek each time it rained.
The story of Noah and the ark is well-known. Even after digging deeper into this story, the first picture that comes to my mind is one from a children’s book, portraying cute animals and smiling people. But what was the condition of the earth during Noah’s time?
My dog and I had just begun our walk when I observed my neighbor high on a ladder. He was trimming one of the large trees in his yard, as he often did. His landscaping was one of the best manicured in the neighborhood. I’m not sure what prompted me to speak that day--maybe his height on the ladder or his far reach of the chainsaw.
All summer long, my backyard rose bush produces hundreds of pink roses. I notice that it blooms and then most of the roses die about the same time. With my garden shears, I cut away the spent blooms. I imagine it sighing and saying, Thank you. Now I have room to grow and bloom all over again.
Trials are hard. They’re messy. They’re down right painful. Do you feel blessed when you experience them?
For eight years, I drove by the same field. There were weeds growing, and the grass looked unhealthy and sparse. One day, as I drove by, I noticed a tractor driving over the grass with sharp circular blades cutting through the hard, cracked, dry ground turning the soil. How painful that must be for the ground, I thought.
Do you know how precious metals are refined? Smelting is the process in which gold is separated from ore and other metals. The ore is first pulverized with extreme pressure to create tiny particles, which are then melted at almost 2000 degrees Fahrenheit. As the gold becomes molten, most of the impurities are burned up.
No matter how you slice it, life is full of challenges. Each hardship represents some sort of loss; loss of a person, home, safety, stability, or purpose. This is why these experiences can be so painful.
Praise the Lord! He rescues us from the pit! I don’t know about you, but I have been in the pit many times throughout my life. Sometimes it’s sin that throws us into the pit, however, sometimes it is circumstances out of our control that throw us head-long into it.
The day Drew moved out followed ten months of limbo. It had been an awful day. The kids cried themselves to sleep. It was late when Dana climbed into bed. She sat propped up on her side of the double bed and opened her Bible. She hadn’t planned to read Romans 8, but the words were there for her that night.
God’s words touched her gently, much like the romantic gesture of being presented a single, long-stemmed red rose.
Eight months had passed since Drew’s and Dana’s ten-year marriage started to unravel. Uncharacteristically, Drew accompanied Dana and the children to church one Sunday morning. It was Valentine’s Day.
The service was unremarkable until the associate pastor announced he would be teaching on romantic love from Song of Solomon.
Drew and Dana began marriage counseling with a Christian counselor soon after their move. Drew finally admitted to having an extramarital affair. As devastating as the news was, Dana expressed the willingness to forgive him. Her commitment to keep their family intact held steady. Drew wanted a separation, but he took no action to move out.
Following Drew’s confession that he didn’t love her, Dana’s feelings continued to reel. She felt lost at sea one moment and anchored by faith the next. Soon thereafter, Drew received his new job assignment that required moving fifteen hundred miles away.
Dana felt sweet anticipation as the day began. It was her 10th wedding anniversary. Drew, her husband, was home from completing some out-of-town professional training for his new job. The last few months they’d only spent a few weekends together so she was excited about celebrating today.
My friend was having trouble getting her 7-year-old daughter up and ready for school in the mornings. After repeatedly asking her daughter to do her morning routine, she decided she had enough. She asked her daughter to come to the bathroom to brush and style her hair, but she didn’t keep asking. Her daughter hadn’t come in to get her hair styled by the time my friend was finished in the bathroom. When the girl wanted her hair brushed, the mom calmly told her that she had missed her chance. She didn’t follow her mom’s instructions, so she would have to go to school with her hair as it was. Hair au naturel – the natural consequence.
Once my daughter and a friend of hers got into a little disagreement. As I asked the girls what the problem was, each girl began telling her side of the story . . . simultaneously. When they realized that neither was backing down, each girl spoke louder and louder. My son was standing right beside me, and his observation was, "That's too many words!" I laughed and had to agree.
