That Christmas

That Christmas
David Huett




     It was the year that Father hurt his back, I remember it so very well though it has been years since that Christmas.  How could I forget that Christmas.
     Father had been working in the field, harvesting the fall corn crop when he tried to pick up a huge limb that had fallen off one of the trees that lined the back part of the field that he had planted.  Whatever he did, it put him down for almost the rest of the harvest.  Neighbors helped as much as they could but they had their own harvest to get in.  It looked like much of the harvest would be lost until grandpa stepped in.
     Grandpa was a just a couple of years retired.  Oh, he still worked his own garden, cut wood and carried water, but he had left the big farming jobs to his son. However, when father could not work the harvest, grandpa stepped up.  Though there was a huge argument between my father and my grandfather, grandpa won the argument and by himself, with a little help from me, of course, saved the harvest.
     While that was an awesome feat, that is not what I remember about that year.  It was what happened on Christmas morning that I remember just like it was yesterday.
     Times were tough and since father had hurt his back, they were even tougher.  Even though grandpa saved the harvest, it was all that we could do to make it.  Mother and I had to do much of the work around the farm, and to be honest, it was hard.  Trying to keep up with the garden, canning all of the vegetables, taking care of the animals, milking the cow and cutting the wood.  Several of the men in the community cut the a lot of wood for us, but mother and I still had split the wood for the stove and for the fireplace.
     After the harvest, Father always made extra money working odd jobs around town, cutting wood for others.  One year, he drove a freight wagon for a couple of months so there could be Christmas.  This year, being hurt and all, Mother told all of us that Christmas would be small, very small and she told me, being the oldest, that there may not be any Christmas presents for me at all.
     That was okay.   I understood, though I have to tell you that I did want something for Christmas.  I mean, we never got much but there was always something under the tree for all of us and in our stockings hung on the fireplace mantle that was at least two or three pieces of Christmas candy.
     I remember that two days before Christmas we had a Christmas snow, well, a better word might be a Christmas blizzard.  The snow kept coming, getting deeper and deeper.  It soon became obvious that travel to town was not going to happen.  I could see the look in the eyes of mother and father that they had planned to go to town and get whatever Christmas we were going to have but that was really questionable with all the snow.  Father even dressed in his warmest clothes and tried to get out, but he could not with his hurt back.
     Even though the weather was terrible outside, the house smelled great.  Mother had made plans long ago for Christmas dinner and everything she needed to fix a feast fit for a king was in the house. When we  went to bed on Christmas Eve, my little brother and sister were excited about the visit of Santa Claus and the activities of Christmas Day.  After they went to sleep, mother had that worried look on her face and she told me,"  I don't know what to do, but as I guess you know, your father and I never made it to town.  I've made your sister a new dress and a doll, your father carved your little brother a wooden horse and he took one of his old belts and carved his name on it, but I'm afraid that there will be nothing for you.   Hope you understand.  There would not have been much anyway, with your father being hurt, but we simply could not make it to town.  You have been such a big help around here since your father has been hurt, you deserve something special, but there won't be anything there.  I'm sorry.”  
     It's hard to be a man at fourteen, but I did my best not to show my mother how disappointed I was.  I told her I understood, and I did.  Father had not been able to ride in the wagon. It just hurt his back too much.
     I put the wood on the fire and climbed the loft to where I shared the space with my brother and sister.  I pulled the blankets up around my little sister and climbed into bed with my little brother.  With all the work that I had been doing to help mother, I was asleep in a short time.
     When I awoke the next morning, the house was cold so I climbed down  the ladder and began to place the kindling on the coals in the fireplace. Usually father did that but since he hurt his back, he had trouble getting out of bed without pain, so it had become my job.  The fire flamed up and I added some bigger logs to the hot coals and I turned my back to warm up a little before I climbed back up the ladder to get dressed.
     As I turned around to warm my front side, I noticed that the stockings were bulging with something.  In the dim light of the fire, I looked inside my stocking and was shocked to see it full of Christmas candy.  My first thought was that my mother had not told me the truth to surprise me.  I smiled at the thought of my little brother and sister climbing down that ladder and seeing those stockings full of candy.  I rehung my stocking and moved towards the ladder to get my clothes.  There were still chores that needed to be done and I wanted get them done so I could help my mother get breakfast for the family.
     As I walked across the room I could see the small tree that I had cut and placed in the corner.  There were several packages under the tree. More than mother had told me about the night before.  I smiled again thinking that my mother had tried to fool me, since I was the oldest and thought that I had outgrown the belief in Santa.
     I climbed into the loft and got dressed. I climbed down a went to the door to put on my boots and coat.  I couldn't help but see that there were at least two presents with my name on them.  "Mother, you sure had me fooled" I thought to myself as I put on my gloves and hat.
     When I walked out to the barn, I saw the footprints in the snow.  That surprised me.  I thought  mother had just stretched the truth to surprise me. I could not imagine  anyone being out in this weather.  Who would have made a trip to our house in such weather as this.  Maybe mother did not lie to me after all.
 It was obvious that someone had visited us during the night and had brought those presents and that candy that was now in the house.  I looked after the animals, getting the fresh food and water and then walked back to the house.  I had been thinking while I was doing my chores that it had to have been grandpa that brought over those presents. Maybe father and mother had given them to grandpa to keep so that they would not be discovered and grandpa had walked from his farm to ours to deliver those presents.
     There was only one problem with that thinking, the foot prints came from town and went back towards town, not towards grandpa's farm.  And there were no footprints in the snow coming from or going back in the direction of grandpa's farm.
    I finished my chores and went back to the house.  Mother was up when I entered the house and began to take off the outer clothes I had put on to keep warm.
“I thought you said that there would be no Christmas?  How do you explain all those presents and the candy?  You tried to fool me, me being 14 and all.  Tried to trick me into believing that ‘you know who’ is real?  Thanks mother.”
“I want you to know that I have no idea how those presents and the candy got here.  Your father and I had picked some things out at Friedmans but honestly, we never made it to town to pick those things up. I have no idea. Was it your grandpa?”
“I thought maybe,” I replied “but the tracks in the snow don’t lead towards grandpa’s but towards town.  Who would come all the way from town in this weather to bring us presents?”
The kids, as I called them,  must have heard the talk cause they came down from the loft screaming with excitement.  Father had gotten up and you could tell by the look between him and mother that father had no idea how those presents got under the tree.
“I heard someone last night,”he said, “but I thought it was you coming back in from outside after checking on things so I didn’t even get up to look.  I had no idea that someone came in the house.”
    “Can we open the presents,” my brother and sister asked.  “Please, can we open them now?”
I got a chair for mother and father and began giving each one a present at a time.  When we finished my sister had her new dress and doll that mother had made and a brand new brush and mirror set.  Mother and father both shook their shoulder as if to say that they had never seen those items before.
My brother got the carved wooden horse and belt from father and a small metal pistol.  Again mother and father’s eyes told us they had no idea of where the pistol had come from.
There were two presents for me.  One was a pocket knife that I have been eyeing at Freidman’s general store but the second was a hatchet, and mother and father both said that Santa must have picked that out on his own.
There were two presents left under that tree, one marked for father and the other marked mother.  Mother got a new measuring cup set and father a new pair of gloves.  His old ones were worn out, with the end of the fingers completed gone.
It was a wonderful day to say the least. Mother’s dinner was delicious, the kids played all day and father, mother and I tried to figure out who has made the trip to us to bring us those presents.
Later that afternoon grandpa showed up to check on us and he assured us that he was not the bearer of the gifts, that he had spent the night in his warm bed and had not ventured out till he had come over to check on us in the afternoon.
The mystery continued till we finally were able to get to town.  All of us wanted to talk to Mr. Friedman to see who had bought those presents.  Surely whoever had purchased those presents had been the secret Santa who had delivered them to us.
“Sure, I remember who bought those presents but he asked me not to say a word.  Said it was Christmas and you folks had been though a lot and he wanted to do something special for you.  I told him the things you had mentioned to me and he picked the rest out on his own.   While he said I could not tell you who he is, he did leave a letter for you to read, but he said you could not read the letter here in town but had to read the letter when you got home.  He said to make you promise.”
While I might have been tempted to read the letter sooner, my father was a man of his word.  He placed the letter in his pocket and promised Mr Freidman that we would wait till we were home.  And that’s what we did.
As soon as we got home, we tied up the team to the rail and we all almost ran to the house to read the letter.  Father gave the letter to mother.  She began to read…

“Every year I ask the Lord to direct me to some family that needs a little help at Christmas.  This year He led me to you.  I know how difficult this harvest season has been, with your father being hurt.  Just as the wise men brought gifts to the Christ-child,  I have given these gifts to you in the name of the Lord.”
“Please do not feel any obligation to thank me, it is my gift to God and to you and your family.  God has been good to me and I want to share with you the blessings God has given to me.”
“Have a merry Christmas.”

Franz Snyder

“Mr. Snyder is our school teacher,” said the kids.  “He’s a really good teacher.”

“And” mother added, “He’s the new preacher at the church.  They say he is very good.  All the ladies have said so.”
Since father had hurt his back I had not been to school.  I was needed around the farm to help grandpa with the chores.

Father said nothing but the next Sunday, he loaded us all in the wagon and took us to church, and every Sunday for as long as I lived at home after that Christmas,  father took us to church.

It has been years since that Christmas.  I have long moved to the city. My brother and sister have also moved from the farm. My mother passed away several years ago.  As I look at the young preacher, he is not so young anymore.  Shades of  grey surrounds his temple.  He too has moved from our town, but when I contacted him about doing father’s funeral he responded, “It would be my honor.”

It is not cold today. It is early spring  The red mound of dirt stands in sharp contrast to the fields of green grass and the blooming of thousands of spring flowers across the meadow.

During the service the preacher made mention of the faithfulness of my father to the Lord’s house, to helping his fellow man, to his leadership to the small church and community. But I remember a time when father was too busy to go to church.  But that all changed on that Christmas.

I’ve got to get to the train station. I need to be back to preach to my own congregation on Sunday.  Someone asked me after the funeral why I didn't preach father’s service.  I told them that honor went to the man that God used to change my father's heart, and in turn my family's heart on that Christmas long ago.

Only seeing the outside

     The older lady arrived early at the airport and checked in at the ticket counter.  She went though all the security checks and found herself at the proper terminal and seated herself against the window.  She was  fascinated by the planes coming and going, their size and the  power that she could feel even through the windows of the  terminal as they took off.  

     It was not her first time to fly, but she was extremely excited for this trip.  She was visiting her son, her only son, who was now living in another state and was pastoring a highly successful church.  How proud she was of him.  He was constantly in her prayers, asking God to richly bless him and his family and ministry.

     He has served several smaller churches faithfully and she believed God had rewarded him with this wonderful opportunity.  The church had done well even in the short time he had been there and she thanked the Lord for His blessing.

     He had been a dedicated Christian since his teens, where he distinguished himself as a leader in the youth group and no one was surprised when he announced that he felt the Lord had called him to preach.  He was, she told herself, such a fine, outstanding young man.  Everyone told her that, including her pastor, who mentioned to her several times that her son was one of the bright spots of those in the ministry.

     She had resisted going to see him to soon, knowing that he would be busy with the new church, but out of the blue he had called and invited her to come for a weekend visit.  He said that he would be preaching on Sunday morning but that he had a special missionary speaker  for Sunday night so he would be able to spend some time with her and show her around their new home town.  She gladly accepted his offer and now she was on her way.

     She watched the people as they began to fill the terminal where she was seated.  She was fascinated that so many people were traveling.  Everywhere she looked she saw people scurrying to find the right terminal and watching the departure and arrival boards  to see when they needed to be ready to board their plane.

     As she watched, she noticed an attractive young lady come and sit near her.   She was nicely dressed, her hair done attractively, but there was one thing that made the older lady especially notice her.  All the way down one of her arms was a large tattoo.

      "How terrible," she thought, "that a nice looking young lady would do such a thing.  I would just die if my son had done that to himself."  

   She tried to turn her attention to the other  people that were around her but she seemed to be drawn to the young lady.  She could not help but stare at the markings down her arm.  "I know that many of the young people have them, but just think of her testimony?"  Suddenly, her mind raced, "I bet she does not even know the  Lord.  How could she with tattoos like that?"  So quietly, to herself, she prayed for the young lady, that the Lord would speak to her.

     When they called for her plane be seated, she noticed that the young lady would be riding on the same plane, headed to the same destination and as they took their seats, she noticed that the young lady was seated just a few rows in front of her.  

     She seemed to posses a good personality, she talked to those that were around her and everyone seemed to enjoy her company.   But no matter how hard she tried, those tattoos bothered her.  She finally told herself that she would never understand why young people thought getting them was something they felt they had to do to their bodies.  

     The plane ride was pleasant, just a couple of hours.   It amazed her that such a distance could be covered in such a short period of time, but how wonderful it was to be able to go and see her son without having to drive for hours half way across the country.  

     As soon as the pilot flashed off the Fasten Seat Belt,  sign, everyone jumped up from their  seats and began taking their carry on luggage out of the overhead racks where it had been stored.  The plane was a mad house and she was glad that she had checked her suitcase in at the counter.  Slowly the line moved as passengers departed from the plane.  She watched as the young lady  walked down the runway and was met my several young adults about her age.  

     "They look very respectable," she thought to herself.  "And they seemed to know and are excited about her being here.  I hope they can witness to her,"  she thought.  "To me, they look like believers."

     Her thoughts were interrupted by the shouts of "grandma, grandma," as her grandson shouted and waved to her.  There by his side were her son and his lovely wife waving and smiling as big as could be. 

She quickened her pace to meet them,smiling just as big.

     "Oh how you have grown young man," she said hugging the boy.  

     "Hi mom, good to see you," said her son as he and his wife hugged the older lady.  His wife kissed her on the cheek and asked "how was the flight?"

     "Just wonderful.  It is so nice to be able to come so far so fast.  I am so glad to be here  she said as she hugged them all again.  I have been wanting to come see you so bad but I knew how busy you were with your new church, I am so glad you called."

     The weekend together flew by, as the family took grandma to all the attractions that they had discovered.  They took her by the church and my, what a wonderful building and location this church had.  She beamed with excitement when her son introduced her to his staff.  They were all so friendly and said that her son talked about his mother all the time and that he had been so excited for her to come and visit.

     She was up early on Sunday morning, she was so excited to hear her son preach again.  It had been over a year since she had heard him preach and she knew that he would do a wonderful job.  However, when he came downstairs she was shocked.  He had on a pair of casual slacks, a dress shirt but no coat or tie.  Her pastor would have never went to Sunday morning dress like this.  And when his wife came downstairs in pants, she could not believe her eyes.  But she said nothing, she just wondered how the people at the church would react to the way their pastor and his wife were dressed.

     When they arrived at the church, there was already a buzz of excitement about the building.  Her son took his Sunday School Class.  She had never seen so many young couples in church before.  They met in a large room full of round tables.  The smell of coffee filled the room and my, what a selection of sweets where along the wall.  Donuts of every sort, pastries, many home made, were there and everyone took some and got something to drink even as class was beginning.  

  

     It was sure different than her class back home.  Her son led  the class, but at every table there was  a discussion leader that got everyone involved in the lesson.  She noticed that many of those in the class carried a notebook in which they were constantly taking notes on what her son said and the discussion questions.  She was so surprised at the participation.  Back home, hardly anyone would speak and the teacher did almost, well truthfully, all of the talking.

     The time flew and soon the bell rang and class was over.  Her son met her and asked her what she thought.  "Well, it was different that her class back home" she said  but she had to confess that she liked how everyone participated and how earnest they were in the discussion.

     He took her to the sanctuary, though the signs throughout the building said auditorium.  Again, she was struck by the crowd.  Young adults and children everywhere.  Here and there she spotted someone her age, but the majority of the crowd were young people.  And they we all dressed like her son, even the older people that were there.  She actually felt overdressed.

     The service was not like anything she had been to before,  The words were shown on a big screen in the front of the church, with beautiful background scenes behind the words.  There was a band that played instead of the organ a piano, complete with guitars and drums, and a group of singers instead of a single song leader like her church back home.  She did not know any of the songs, but she was struck by the worship of the crowd.  She had sung in the choir for years at her church and she had looked many times over the crowd and saw that many did not sing, and even though there's were hymn books right in front of them, they never opened the book, but here everyone seemed to sing, many with eyes closed and hands raised in worship.  Those who were not singing were involved in worship, praying silently, eyes closed and faces lifted towards heaven.

     There was no special music, one of the members of the band

prayed and when she opened her eyes, there was her son.  His message was wonderful, and she enjoyed the notes on the screen.  His message was so practical, it applied to everyday life.  She again noticed that many had Bibles and notebooks open and were taking notes.  Her son talked to those that were there, presenting the message as if he were talking to each person one on one.  When he finished, he gave simple instructions as to how people could respond to the invitation.  As the band played again, people responded and he met each one, talking with them and then calling others to meet with them.  

     After the invitation, her son reminded the church that they had a special guest at the evening service, a young lady that had visited the church before he had become the pastor.  She had so impacted several in the church with her testimony, that they had asked if she could be invited back.  The young lady was going to the mission field to help with children's ministry and had raised all her support. This was her last service before leaving.  He told them  that she has gladly accepted the invitation to return to speak at the church, that she had such wonderful memories of the service there and the warm reception she had received.

     After service, they all went to lunch together.  She commented on how much she enjoyed the service, though it was much different that her church back home.  "You have so many young people, my, how wonderful it was to see that many young adults and small children in church," she said.  "Our children's program at church is so small, and we only have three or four young families coming to our church."  

     "We are blessed," responded her son.  "It is exciting what God is doing.  It was one of the main reasons that I believe God called us here and why we love it so much.  We loved the smaller churches where we served and the people treated us wonderful but this is such a special place, we really feel like we fit.  We are really happy here."

     The afternoon was a much needed time of rest  back at the house.

Grandma and grandson played games, while mom and dad rested and watched with pleasure as they played.  Though she was tired, she was not about to miss out on the opportunity to spend time with her grandson, she could always sleep when she got home.

   They grabbed a snack and headed off to church.  The grandson was excited about the children's program that took place at the church on Sunday night and on the way to church he told his grandma everything he had done since they had come to their new church.  She was pleased to see how eager he was to come and how much he knew about the Bible.

   As they went into the auditorium, she saw the young adult pastor call her son over introduced him to a young lady.  She just glanced at the meeting but was drawn back again.  The young lady her son was talking to was the young lady from the airport, the one with the tattoos down her arm, the one she had prayed for, the one she just knew in her heart needed to hear the gospel.  That very young lady was going to the mission field.  That young lady had touched the lives of many in the very church where her son was pastor.  

     The band began to play, and though the crowd was smaller, there was a good number present.  The music was just as good as in the morning service, and she noticed that the members of both the band and the singers were different.  She spotted several in the crowd that had been on the stage in the morning service.

     Her son sat with her and his wife and the young adult pastor introduced the young lady.  She was neatly dressed but she had short sleeves on and those tattoos were showing.  As she looked around, she wondered if anyone was bothered.  She could have covered them up, she though to herself.

     The young lady began by thanking the church for their support and that she wanted to share with them her burden and call to missions.  She began to tell them of her youth, the mistakes she had made and the mess her life was in before she met Christ.  She told them how the tattoos on her arm was a reminder to her of what kind of life she had lived before she came to Christ.  She told them how God, in his mercy and grace, had saved her and turned her life around and called her to go and minister to children and how excited she was to go teach children about Jesus.  She reminded them that God still changes people, she was living proof and that no matter how much they had messed up, God could and would change their life.

     The older lady sat in amazement, the Spirit of God touching her heart. She was moved by this young lady's testimony.  It wasn't so much what she said as it was the conviction of her heart that she spoke with.  She thought to herself, here is a young lady who had met the Lord.  He has changed her heart.  Here I was looking on the outside but God was looking on the inside.  I judged her by her looks, thought she wasn't or couldn't have been a believer, and here I sit, my heart touched by her testimony.  And this morning, I was worried about the way my son and his wife dressed, because there were dressed differently that I thought.  

     She did not speak long, but her testimony was indeed powerful.  To the group of young adults gathered there, her words were words of encouragement that God uses people who have made mistakes, sometimes big mistakes, and He still calls and uses them for His honor and glory.

     But it was not just a message to the young adults that were there.  It spoke to at least older saint, reminding her that while man may look on the outside, God looks on the heart.

     When the service was over, the older lady walked to the front where people were gathered around the young lady.  As she approached, the crowd seem to part for her and there she stood face to face with the young lady.  Tears filled her eyes as she took the young lady by the hands.

     "May god bless you," she said.  "I do not know if you remember me, but we were on the same flight on Friday.  My son is the pastor of this church and he invited me to come and visit this weekend because he had a special speaker coming tonight.  He said that he could spend extra time with me because he would not have to preach this evening.  I saw you in the airport and I must confess to you that I misjudged you terribly."

     She continued,  "When I saw those tattoos on your arm, I just knew that you were a sinner and that you really needed the Lord.  And when I saw you before the service, I could not imagine that you could have said anything that would touch my heart but my dear, God had used you in a special way to open my eyes.  Thank you."

     The young lady reached out and hugged the older lady.  They stood there for a moment, and heaven opened on their hearts, and a bond of sisterhood between saints took place that only children of God are privilege to understand.

   They never saw each other again, that older lady and new missionary but they prayed for each other often.  Heaven heard as they each called out the others name and asked for God to bless them richly.  Children were born into the kingdom of God on the mission field and visitors,  no matter what they looked like or how they were dressed, were warmly welcomed at the door of the old church.  Isn't God good.

     

     

Living his life

Two friends, best friends, life long friends, loved spending time in the outdoors.   Thier favorite pastime was to spend time in the woods, investigating every hill and valley, every spot of the woods.  Thier most  favorite place was the creek.  The huge rocks that rose majestically out of the creek became  perfect places to jump from, to use as whatever their imagination could conjure up.  It was wonderful.

No matter what the weather, no matter the time of year, if you could not find the boys around the house, you could expect that when  you call, they would come from the woods. They loved the outdoors and spending time together in the woods.

It was early spring, when the spring rains are abundant that the boys decided to take a hike in the woods.  They had several special places, you know, the grape vine that went from hill to hill.  Tarzan never looked as good as the those boys as they swang on that large grape vine.

There was the cave.   It was so small that they boys could not fit into it  but they did store an old lunch box in there  with all their secret stuff that they did not anyone else to see.

There was the place they called the ski jump.  It was simply a huge outcrop of rocks that dropped maybe three feet but is was a natural place for the leaves to gather so jumping into the great piles of leaves without any danger of hurting themselves.

The island was formed when the creek split around a small spot of land.  It was so small that the two man  pup tent that they boys had barely fit on the island  but with an  imagination it could become a deserted island in the South Pacific, or the place where Blackbeard buried his treasure.

They spent hours playing in the wood, numerous night coming out and sleeping in the pup tent.  They rode their bikes through the woods, built forts of fallen trees, though the fort was usually only a couple of logs stacked on each other.  They defended the Alamo, fought the British with general Washington, climbed iro Jemma with the Marines.  They landed at Normandy, they fought pirates, fought off Indians, fought with the British in India nod with the French forgiven legion all,across the desert.  They lived 

Ike Tarzan and captured King Kong.  They fought in the Roman legions, were as strong as Hercules,  conquered the world with Alexander the Great.  They sat around not the camp fire (just wood piled up, they were not allowed to have fire In the woods) and Drank  their coffee ( chocolate milk from home) while they are stale bread (oreo’s from home stored in their backpack all Day in a plastic lunch bag).  It was a boys paradise.

Now, the small creek ran into a larger creek across the corn field and they his time boys decided they wanted to see how much water was running in the “big creek” as they called it.

With the recent spring rains the creeks were both full.  The small creek they normally played by was up and the big creek was way up thanks to the numerous other small cry weather creeks that dumped the runoff for the surrounding hills.  The boys were fascinated with the amount of water flowing.  They had never seen big creek so high.

While both boys were the same ages,one of the boys was was quite a bit bigger and stronger than the other. It never affected their friendship.  Of course the smaller of the two was the bravest, or maybe we could say he was not the best at anticipating the consequence of what're was doing.

“Hey look” he shouted as he jumped into the water to land on the top of the only big rock that was showing above the rushing water.

Before his friends could yell not, the leap was made it the top of the rock was slippery from the water and his foot slipped and he was swept downstream in the swift moving water.

Without a moment's hesitation his bigger and stronger friends jumped into the water and began swimming towards his friend.  He reached him and at that moment a huge piece of a long came floating by, broken loose by the flooding water.  With one hand holding onto his smaller friend he grabbed the log.  While it was huge, it could not float both of the boys.  The bigger boy told his  friend to hold on and to try to get to the bank by kicking but he was not to let go of the log.

The smaller young man kicked for all he was worth and eventually was able to get close enough to a bank to drag bottom and stand up. He scrambled up the bank and yelled to his friend, “I made it.”

Turning around he expected to find his friend right behind him but he was no where in sight.  He yelled and yelled. It no answer came.  He ran home screaming to his parents to help.  

They found his friend the next day, downstream.

Years later an old man retired from his law practice.  One of his grandkids asked him, “Grandpa,did you always want to be a lawyer?”

The grandfather eyes filled with tears.  It had been the dream of his friend to someday become a Lawyer.  Every since that day, his life had changed.  He had purpose, he had a dream.  He would become a lawyer.

You might think that was not the best thing for him to do but as he reflected over his career, nothing could have suited him better.

 I have jumped into the water

     2.  I needed to be saved

     3. I have found meaning and purpose in life

The ride

The ride

     "Hurry up,"the boy yelled up the stairs.  "I've made reservations and we can't be late.  We need to be leaving right now."

“I’m coming.  You know not to rush me.  This is a special night.”

He had arranged with her boss to get her off work early, but she did not know that.  He had texted her right after lunch and had asked her to see if she could get off early, that a special opportunity had just came available to him.  The truth was he had made arrangement months ago for a special one year anniversary dinner, one that they had talked about doing someday but she would never had guessed that he had planned such a special afternoon.

“Dress casual but warm,” he had told her.  “You might even bring a sweater.”

That had stumped her.  Where could he be taking me that demanded casual dress and a sweater?  Ice skating?  No, neither one could ice skate?  Surely not cave exploring.  He know how she hated small places.  

“Come on.  We’ve got to go”

She checked her hair one last time, grabbed her sweater and headed down the stairs.

“You look wonderful,” he exclaimed as she walked down the stairs.  Every time he saw her he still was in amazement that she would have agreed to go out with him and and even more amazed when she said yes when he asked her to marry him.

As they walked to the car he told her, “ I need to blindfold you so you can't see where we're going.  I want it to be a total surprise when we get there.”

“Where are you taking me”, she asked.

“I'm not saying’” he said.  “It is a surprise as he opened the door to the car.”  Once she was seated he handed her and bandana to cover her eyes.  “Be sure not to cheat,” he told her.  She smiled and said that she could not see see.

He drove around for a while before he headed towards their destination.  He wanted her to be totally surprised when he removed her blindfold.

She was totally confused.  She had tried to imagine where he was taking her but all the driving had really messed up her sense of direction.  Finally she just gave up and relaxed in the car.  When he reached for her hand, she welcomed his comforting hand holding hers.  Finally the came to a stop.  She felt a wave of excitement as he turned off the car and told her to wait, that he wanted to get her out of the car before she took the bandana.

He opened her door and led her several steps.  He gently whispered in her ear, “Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” and he removed the blindfold.

She screamed in excitement.  Before her was a hot air balloon.  They had often dreamed of taking a ride together, ever since that had watched “Up.”

Dinner will be served up in the air, he said to her.  He opened the trunk and got out a picnic basket.  I've packed our favorite sandwiches, peanut butter and strawberry jelly,  with plain lay potato chips and our favorite drink, Dr. pepper, ice cold.  Come on.”

It felt like she was walking on air as they made their way to the gondola underneath the balloon.  The pilot helped her climb over the wall of the basket and as soon as they were settled, he pulled the cord and the flame ignited and the balloon began to rise.  Other than the sound of the burner heating up the air inside the balloon, there was only the sound of the breeze blowing the balloon.

The sights were amazing.  As they slowly rose they could see the city and though the breeze was blowing them away from the city, they could see the little house they were renting.

They sat down around the small table that the owner of the fballoon has placed there and they opened the sandwiches,chips and the Dr Peppers that he had brought for them.  The pilot would occasionally ignite the burner to keep the balloon in the air but other than that sound, it was peaceful and so quiet.

They engaged the pilot in some small talk after they had eaten but really nothing of importance.  They just stood, holding hands and looking at the incredible sights.  As the sun began to lower on the horizons, the views became even more spectacular.

Neither had paid much attention to how the balloon operated, they were so enraptured with the beauty they were witnessing.  The hills and valleys, the shadows as the sun began to lower on the horizon, the farms that dotted the landscape and seeing it all from the ballon, from high above the ground.

There was now warning, no dramatic grabbing of the chest, no last minute words, the pilot just slid down the side is the gondola and he was dead.  They both rushed to his side but it was obvious, he was dead.

"What do we do,"she shrieked.  "Do you know how fly this balloon or whatever you do to it?  How are we going to get down?"

He reached into his pocket and opened his phone.  “Thank goodness for the nations largest coverage area.”  

With that he dialed 911 and explained to the person who answered the phone that they were in a hot air balloon and that the pilot had died.  

"We don't know how to bring this thing down.  Can you help?"

So what do you do when you find yourself in trouble?  You know, when you are way in over your head and you have no idea what to do, how to get down, how to save your life's?

Let me give you three suggestions.  

 1.  Admit you're in over your head

         A.  For most of us, pride keeps us from seeking the help that we need

                  I.  We can do this on our own, we do not need help

                  II.  The truth is that we need help to navigate the challenges of life

          B.  We all need to realize we cannot save ourselves

                  I.  I cannot on my own change my life enough to impress the Lord.  His standard of perfection is a standard I can never meet on my own.

                  II.  We all need help

2.  Call on someone who know how to rescue you.

          A.  There is someone to help

                    I.  He is alway willing to listen to your call call for help

                    II. He knows the answer to the problems you 

         are facing

          B.  He may not rescue you but he will provide the strength to handle whatever comes your way

                    I.  We cannot always get earthly forgiveness for our actions but we can get eternal forgiveness

3.  Do whatever they tell you to do.

          A.  If you have come to the place that you realize that you cannot save yourself save yourself, then when you callous for help,  do whatever they tell you to do

                    I.  Many of us struggle with the same problems because we do not follow the instruction that we are given

          B.  And we have to continue to follow the instructions.  

                    I.  This is a lifelong discipline that we need to develop if we are going to navigate the challenges of life.

  

This little light

​He awoke struggling to breath.  The air was full of dirt and dust and at first he thought it was the dust and dirt that made the room dark but the longer he lay awake, the more he realized that the darkness was not leaving.  

He slowly became aware of the pain in his head; he rubbed his head and found the spot quickly.  He felt gingerly, feeling if the was bleeding because the darkness was so black that he could not see anything.  He was amazed at how the darkness affected his ability to even sense his own body.  He slowly ran his fingers over his body to see if there were any other injuries, any places where he was cut or bleeding and he found none.  He raised his hands around him to see if he could sit up, and awkwardly sat up.  

​What happened?  Where am I?  His thoughts raced and he sat alone in the darkness.  He was afraid to move, he couldn't see anything.   He thought his eyes would eventually adjust to his surrounding and that he would be able to see a little but the longer he sat there the more he realized that was futile.  He was in total darkness.  He could not see a thing.

​His head was really throbbing; he gently rubbed the large bump on the back of his head.  He touched the spot and slowly touched his fingers to his mouth to see if there was blood, but he tasted none.  Other than the bump on his head, he was not hurt but the darkness was overwhelming.  He could see nothing and the darkness seemed to even affect his memory.  It was so dark, he felt so alone, more alone that he could remember.  At that thought a small flicker seemed to happen in his brain.  He had not been alone; there had been someone with him.  He brain seemed to stutter into action.  Who had he been with?  

​And then as if someone turned on his brain, he remembered a name. He had been exploring a cave with his good friend Tom.  It was something that they had done before in this very cave.  There had been a cave-in.  The roof had given way and … that’s all he could remember.

​“Tom,” he thought suddenly, “Where is Tom?”

​He spun his head around the room hoping he would sense his friend but but he sensed nothing but the darkness.   He called out Tom’s name but there was no answer.  He was frantic, where was Tom?  Was he hurt?  Was he lying right next to him but because of the darkness he could not make out his friend? What if he is bleeding to death right over there?  He screamed again, “Tom where are you?”  

But no one answered his call.

​He started to crawl around to see if he could find his friend  but he ran into  the solid wall of the cave.  When we began to feel his way around the wall of the cave, he pushed on a rock and it started a small rumble of rocks falling down around him.  He froze.  He could not afford to have more rocks fall on top of him.  He was fortunate that he only had the bump on his head.  At least he was alive even if he was a prisoner in the total darkness of the cave.

​He sat back against the solid wall of the cave and starred out into the darkness, trying to see something.  He shuddered in the darkness.  He wasn’t really cold but the darkness was horrible.  It engulfed him, holding him in it’s icy grip .  He put his hand up to his face and no matter how close he held his hand to his eye, he could not see he hand.

​He screamed out “help” but no one answered.  He thought he heard a moan but then realized it was the cave moaning as rocks crushed rocks and the  dirt shifted.   The earth moaned under the new strain of the cave in.

​How he was panicked!    His mind raced through countless scenarios and none of them seemed good.  What if Tom were trapped on the other side of the slide, blocked in just like he was with no escape?  What if he was dead, buried under the rock side?  Who knew where they were?  Had they told anyone that they were going exploring?  He could not remember, his memory was still fuzzy.   Surely they had told someone.  How long till they were missed?  How much oxygen was there in the cave he was in?  How large was the space.  It seemed tight and small in the total darkness.  How big was the slide?  Could they dig him out without another slide?  How long would he have to stay here in total darkness and all alone?

​How long he sat there he did not know, it seemed like an eternity.  Occasionally the earth would moan and he could hear more rocks and dirt falling but other than the earth crying out, there was no sound.  He had to use his brain to tell if his eyes were open or not, for he could still see nothing.  The air seemed okay but it was still filled with dirt and dust so he used part of his shirt for a wrap around his mouth and nose.  It helped a little with his breathing but the sense of loneliness overwhelmed him.  

​He had never known a feeling like this.  It overcame him like a wave in the ocean, totally covering his being… hopeless.  Yes, he thought to himself with discouraging a thought, hope less.  Never before had he felt so alone, so helpless, so hopeless.  Here he sat, in total darkness, all alone, in the deepest part of a cave, trapped by a cave in, not knowing if anyone even knew if he was alive or dead.  No matter how hard he tried, these thoughts kept returning to his hopeless situation.  

​Suddenly the earth shudder again, rocks began to shake and the man covered his head with his hands and drew his legs close to his chest.  From the sound he could tell that the movement of the rocks was across the room from where he was, which did bring him some comfort.  The air was full of dust and debris, so he closed his eyes and waited a long while before he opened them again.  When he finally opened his eyes he blinked his eyes for a few seconds.  From across the room he would see a tiny beam of light shining from beneath the ruble.   He blinked his eyes a couple of time again to be sure that it was not his imagination or his mind playing tricks on him but the could see the dust swirling round the room as it settled.  

​He was amazed at how much the little beam of light brightened  up the room.  He could now see the path across the floor to where the beam of light was shining through the ruble.  In just a few seconds he could make out the walls of the room where he was trapped, he could see the mounds of rocks lying across the pathway that would lead him out of the cave.  He shook his head wondering why he was not crawling towards the light and then he was quickly crawling across the floor towards the source of the light.  He reached the other side and began to carefully move the rocks out of the way to get to the light.

​His heart was saddened when he realized that he could not get to the light.  He did discover that the source of the light was his helmet that he was wearing when the cave in occurred.  He was positive that the helmet had saved his life considering how sore his head was.  He moved as much debris as he could so that more of the light could fill the room.  When he finished he crawled back across the room to what appeared to be the most solid and safest place to be.  As he sat there he considered how much more encouraged he was because of a little beam of light shining brightly through all the debris.  One little beam of light had given him hope.  One little beam of light had allowed him to see his surrounds, to realize that the room was large and that there should be plenty of air to breath.  He found his ears listening more attentively to the sounds of those that would soon be coming to rescue him.  His fear was gone; he was no longer shaking as if he were freezing to death.  He had hope all because of a little light shining through the darkness.

​

We are the light of the World.  In the midst of all the darkness around us, let me challenge you to the that light that lights the way to the Savior.

On the hopeless side of the fence

The little boy pressed his face as hard as he could against the bars that surrounded the palace.  Through the bars he could see the finely manicured lawns, the bright green grass, the beautifully colored flowers.  He could hear the running water from the huge fountains that graced the royal lawn. The fragrance of a thousand blooming flowers gently floated in the breeze and filled his nose with such wonderful aromas; smells he had never smelled before.  

There seemed to be nothing out of place. Everything was spotless and beautiful.  The palace was made of the finest marble. It glistened in the sunlight.  The huge doors were carved with a thousand designs, so many and so small he could hardly distinguish one from another.  On either side of the doors stood soldiers at attention.  Thier uniforms were spotless. Their weapons were gleaming. Their boots were polished to a brilliant black sheen.  The silver ornamentations on their uniforms reflected the sunlight like brilliant stars on a summer night.  The windows of the palace were the biggest windows he had ever seen and they were covered in stained glass with scenes of the majestic peaks of the kingdom.  As the young boy stared at the windows, he could imagine himself atop those majestic peaks, looking down at the small villages that dotted the kingdom.  

Even the bars he was pressing against were painted a shiny black.  There was not one spot of rust or discoloration on any of the rungs of the huge metal fence that surrounded the palace.  It was not like his home in the poorest part of the village.

As he turned his back on the palace, he glanced towards the part of town where he lived.  Plain brown mud huts were all he could see.  The streets around the palace were paved with white crushed rocks; the curbs lined with trees and shrubs.  The street in front of his house was a dirt path lined with rocks covered in mud and brush.  There was nothing desirable about living on his street.  All of the houses looked the same.  The only time things looked different was when his mother did the wash and hung out the clothes on the line.  At least on laundry day there were two colors, dull white and dull brown in the neighborhood instead of just dull brown.

He slowly walked towards the main gate to see if he could catch a  glimpse of the interior of the palace and just as he got to where he could see in, the huge doors opened and some people came out.  They stood on the huge white marble steps of the palace and the servants left the door open while they talked.  He stared at the interior of the palace.  The walls were as white as the outside of the palace, glistening from the huge chandelier that hung in the hallway.  Large pictures of the royal family lined the hall.  The doorways were massive, outlined with white marble posts.  Royal attendants scampered around, each doing his or her particular duty to the best of his ability. Their clothing was fascinating to him, considering his own dull attire.  They wore brilliant white shirts, black coats or aprons and shoes, yes shoes, on their feet.  He glanced down at his  feet, dusty and dirty from the streets he walked, and wondered what if felt like to wear shoes.  He noticed their hair, and felt his own. Theirs seemed perfect; his uncut and very unkept. Everything about the servants said that they lived better than he did.  Maybe he would never be the king, but maybe, just maybe someday he could figure out a way to get a job at the palace.  He would gladly become a servant if he could live in the palace and dress like they did.

As he watched, a carriage came to pick up some of the people on the steps.  He did not know who they were, but they were definitely not servants.  They were dressed in the finest clothes he had ever seen.  The jewelry sparkled from the ladies' rings and necklaces. He saw the biggest ring he had ever seen on the hand of one of the men  and when he moved his hand, he flashed what looked like a lightning bolt as the sun reflected the huge diamond mounted on his finger.

He had never seen anything like the carriage that had been brought around to pick up the guest.  Every part was polished, glimmering.  The polished reigns were as black as could be; the buckles all made of silver.  The interior was velvet, light blue like the sky and when the door was opened, he could see the pillows on the seats.  It was a far cry from the wagon his father used to bring his vegetables to market.  And the horses, how magnificent.  He had never seen such big and strong animals in his life.  Their manes were tied with ribbons and their tails braided.  Even their hooves were polished.  "What I would give to be one of the boys who takes care of such wonderful horses" he thought to himself. "I would be willing to sleep in the barn if I could take care of horses like that."

Even the driver on the carriage was dressed immaculately.  He carried himself with an air of respect, opening the door, helping the people into the carriage, closing the door,  climbing up on the carriage, and gently encouraging the horses to pull the carriage.  Oh,  what I would give to be the man who drives that carriage.  Look at those beautiful horses, how majestically they trot, how beautiful is the carriage.  He thought of the old mule his father owned, how slow and cantankerous it was, how unglamorous was the rope that his father used to guide the mule to the market.

"I wonder what it is like to meet the King?  I wonder what the room where he works looks like..."  the young man thought to himself.  "I wonder how big his bedroom is?  What size bed does he sleep on?  How many blankets does he have?  I wonder how many clothes he has...or shoes.  Oh my, I wonder how many pairs of shoes the King has?  I'll bet there must be hundreds!"

"How big is the table in the dining room of the King?  I wonder how much food the king eats, or what kinds of food he eats."  He remembered his breakfast, lunch and supper of a bowl of rice.  Occasionally they would have a little meat in the rice.  "I bet the king has meat with every meal it he wants to."

"And I'll bet he has cold milk.  Nice cold milk to drink.  Just think...cold milk."

The gate was opened by more guards, all dressed in the fanciest of official gear.  The carriage rumbled down the street. The guards slowly closing the gate with great military fanfare.  The young boy had never seen anything like the palace, the grounds, the soldiers, the servants, the clothing, the carriage, the horses...It was almost too much for him to take in.  He started to back away from the palace and turn towards his home of dirt floors, mud and straw walls, and a bed of rough woven ratan.  

He went back to the fence and put his arm between the bars and reached as far as he could towards the palace, trying, for just a moment, to imagine what it would feel like if he were on the other side of the fence.  His thoughts were interrupted by the call of the guard, "Put your arms back on the other side, young man!" the guard yelled roughly.

As he walked away, he told himself, "I shall never see inside the palace.  I shall never wear clothing like that.  I shall never drive a team of horses as beautiful as those.  I shall never be able to lay down on such green grass.  I shall never be able to grow flowers as beautiful as those in the palace garden.  There is no way that I shall ever come any closer to the wonders of the palace than standing at the fence, looking in.  That is as close as I shall ever come.  

He turned towards the colorless side of town, his bare feet trudging through the dust, his head down, tears streaming down his small cheeks as he accepted the reality that he was on the outside looking in.  He would never enjoy the life of the palace.  He was on the hopeless side of the fence.

It is our privilege to minister to many who feel like they are on the hopeless side of the fence.  God, in his mercy, has saved us from our sins through his Son and has commissioned us to walk along the fence and share with others about how they can leave hopelessness behind and enjoy the wonder of the palace of the King.

But wait, there's more. Not only can they enjoy the palace of the King, the King wants to adopt them and make them joint heirs with His Son.  From hopeless...to heirs of the King.  

Who do you know...who will you meet this week that needs to hear that they do not need to be on the hopeless side?  A way has been made to enter the Palace of the King.