Hurry, hurry, hurry!

Yeah, I know. With only a week to go before Christmas 2011, that was probably a slightly mean thing to say, right? But hey, I’m bad that way.

Still, I’m wondering if more than a few of you are gettin’ a mite, um, “wound up” as we wind up these last few days before Christmas.

I mean, when you’re getting’ ready for the holidays, there’s no shortage of, well, stuff to do, right? (Especially if you have kids and/or a big family.) Things like desperately searching high and low for those last-minute presents, cookin’ the turkeys, hams, and pies (particularly the pies!); decoratin’ the house, the tree and the dog; all that house cleaning… yeah, I’m sure the list could go on for quite a while.

Hey, I’ll be the first to admit it can be downright easy to sorta forget the reason why all this hustle and bustle exists in the first place, y’know? No, it’s not because of an artificial advertising push by manufacturers of the latest electronic gizmos, or a conspiracy to sell more greeting cards, or even (if you’re a kid) just an excuse to skip school for a few weeks. Nope (sound of buzzer) it’s none of the above.

The thing is, when you get right down to it the facts are pretty plain, my friends; there is only ONE reason there’s a Christmas at all, and it’s this: Jesus really IS the reason for this season. In the midst of all the things you may or may not have to do, it pays to remember that one simple detail. Just sayin’.

So…

I’d like to contribute my two cents’ worth of help to y’all for the rest of this week. Oh, it’s not much; just a little something to sorta calm the waters, so to speak. It comes in the form of a truly beautiful Christmas song called “Still, Still, Still”.

Now, unlike most Christmas songs that celebrate the birth of Jesus, this particular song is actually about the night before He is born. It brings to mind the comparative silence of the world just before the grand announcement made by the angels when Jesus actually was born.

Take a moment, if you will, to stop (please don’t try this when you’re, y’know, driving!) and imagine a quiet, peaceful winter night outside of ancient Jerusalem. The hills are mostly silent while practically everyone in the world, save the shepherds, are asleep. In the heavens, a single star becomes brighter, and brighter, and even brighter still. Then hear the words (for the full effect, scroll up and click on the video play button, then scroll back down and read these words as they’re sung):

Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.
For all is hushed,
The world is sleeping,
Holy Star its vigil keeping.
Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.

Sleep, sleep, sleep,
‘Tis the eve of our Savior’s birth.
The night is peaceful all around you,
Close your eyes,
Let sleep surround you.
Sleep, sleep, sleep,
‘Tis the eve of our Savior’s birth.

Dream, dream, dream,
Of the joyous day to come.
While guardian angels without number,
Watch you as you sweetly slumber.
Dream, dream, dream,
Of the joyous day to come.

Wonderful, isn’t it? Hearing that song, I can actually sense a feeling of peace, stillness, and rest overtaking me. That, my friends, is my prayer and wish for you this week.

Prepare yourself, world; Jesus is coming!

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Video: Still, Still, Still, by Mannheim Steamroller

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Ever feel like you’ve missed the road to prosperity? Yeah, sometimes it feels that way to me, too. In fact, once I had the chance to make the turn – but passed it by. (Cue rimshot: ba-da-bing!

(In case you’re wondering, the road to Prosperity is in South Carolina, off Interstate 26, not too far from Columbia. Just sayin’.)

Yeah, I know. Sadly, these days quite a few folks are lookin’ for that opportunity to come knocking on our doors. And I’m not talking about having the next winning lottery ticket come floating in the window, either – although it makes for a nice daydream… No, they’re actually looking for the chance to, y’know do something.

See, I know what it’s like to have things swept out from under you; things like a job, a bank account, and perhaps even a direction in life. More times than I’d like to admit. But hey, who ever said life is supposed to be fair? It happens. The most important thing, though, is what happens after that. You know what I mean, right? It’s what comes next that really defines who you are.

So, just for the fun of it, let’s take a quickie test. Let’s say that life has suddenly taken a turn for the worse and the giant bluebird of happiness has just, ahem, pooped on your parade, if you know what I mean.

Would you:

a)   throw a tantrum
b)   blame “the system”
c)   demand somebody, y’know, do something
d)  try again, or try something else.

Now, chances are, if you are taking the time to read this, I would be willing to bet your answer is very likely d) try again, or try something else. Well… I’m afraid you’d only be part right. The real answer is e) all of the above. (Yes, it was a trick question. Please don’t sue me. I have nothing.)

In fact, every time I’ve experienced a sudden change in fortunes (meanin’ a downward change, of course – it’s not likely many folks would be too upset about an upward change in fortune), I’ve had to work my way through pretty much all of those reactions. (Surely you remember the stages of grief?) Hey, it’s the way we’re made, after all.

But the problem isn’t the struggle we experience while shuffling through those times. Nope, that’s not the point at all. After all, if you’re, y’know, alive, then it’s pretty much a given that life will occasionally hand you lemons. No, the thing that separates us from the herd is what we do choose to do with those lemons. And if you don’t make it all the way from a) through d) and on to e) – well, you missed it.

I gotta admit; it’s very, very tempting to sorta “hole up” at any one of those early stages. After all, wallowing in self-pity does bring its own strange kind of satisfaction. The only problem is, it gets you absolutely nowhere. You can’t actually solve anything while you’re there. I know; I’ve tried.

Nope, the only thing that really works is to get out there and try again. Or, if you’ve tried whatever it is you’ve been trying enough, then go for something different. (You remember the definition of insanity, don’t you?) Trust me; it’s the only thing that really works.

So, will you finally make it to Prosperity – or at least, on the road to Prosperity? Alas, that’s not for me to say. But I will say this: you’ll never make it if you don’t try for it.

I’m just sayin’.

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Since this is the first post of a brand new year, it’s only fitting to first reflect a bit on things just passed before we take a look towards the future, don’cha think? Tradition, you know.

So let’s start with a little, um, thing that happened just last week.

Lights! Action!

If you’re like many of us, you’ve recently celebrated the birth of Christ on December 25th. (I know it may come as a shocker to some, but He really IS the reason for the season, y’know. Just sayin’.) AND, at least here in the “Western” world, today marks the first day of a brand new year. (Yeah, I know the Asian world won’t celebrate New Year’s for a few more weeks. “Close enough”, I say.)

Anyhoo, I don’t know about you, but during the Christmas season some of the things Mrs. MZM and I look forward to the most are the Christmas music, the special Christmas events, and especially the Christmas Pageants, particularly at our local churches, large and small. I’m tellin’ ya; we’ve seen (and been a part of) some that are as good as or better than anything you’d find on Broadway. (Well, at least off-Broadway quality, anyway.)

In fact, we went to one of those “big production” pageants just before Christmas at a large church near us. It was quite a show, I’ll tell ya! The highlight was, during one musical number commemorating the arrival of the Wise Men (or, as I prefer to call ‘em, the “Wise Guys”), the three of them rode in on genuine, real live camels and an elephant! Yup – an elephant strolled right across the stage. Wow. (The engineer in me couldn’t help but wonder if they’d performed a weight distribution calculation on that wooden floor. No worries, though; nothing collapsed. But I digress.)

The elephant, of course, was the most impressive part of the entire pageant. He strolled majestically to the center of the stage like the king of all land creatures that he was, and then paused for his rider to disembark. As soon as that was accomplished, he performed for us a little, raising his trunk and one leg towards the audience as if to say, “hey lookit me!” I suppose it’s the elephant equivalent of a curtsey. The audience was very appreciative; it earned him a round of applause for a great job. Way to go, Bubba!

Gravity – “It’s the Law!”

Well, that’s when it happened.

After our friend the elephant little gave his little performance, his handler gave him his cue and he headed off towards the exit at stage right. Unfortunately, as he turned around it became obvious for all to see that his leg and trunk weren’t the, er, only things he’d raised, if you get my meanin’. Yep, that’s right – he had his tail raised too. And if you’ve ever been around animals of any kind, you know what that means, right? Yessir – when that tail goes up – something, er, else generally comes down. It’s like, gravity. And yep, that’s exactly what happened!

There came a collective “uh-oh” from the audience as, at right about the same moment we all realized just exactly what was about to happen. That poor elephant! Instead of applause for a job well done, this particular job instead earned a clearly audible gasp (and more than a few horrified screams) and a resounding “eww-yuk!” from everyone. I’m tellin’ ya; for once Mrs. MZM and I were thrilled – absolutely thrilled – to be at the back of the auditorium!

Y’know, it’s a cryin’ shame, too. All the work and time those folks put into that production – the writing, the music, the rehearsals, the costumes – it was a gargantuan effort, to be sure. But the sad fact is (at least for those of us who attended this one particular performance), ten years from now when we recall this pageant, this is what we’ll remember!

Probably Not What You Expected

So along about now you may be asking, “Uh, what the heck has that previous – and somewhat disgusting – story have to do with the New Year?” Well, that’s a doggone good question!

Here’s the thing.

Over the years I’ve jokingly said many times the phrase I plan to have emblazoned on my tombstone when I kick the ol’ bucket is, “Y’know, things didn’t quite work out like I’d planned!” (Actually, I’m only half-joking.)

Still, it never ceases to amaze me how differently things always seem to work out from what I, in my mind at least, think should be the “ideal”. You know what I mean, right? It’s been my experience that, no matter how well I’ve mapped out my future, there’s always something – or someone – that comes along and throws a monkey wrench in the works; stuff I simply can’t plan for.

Let’s see… I know there’s a technical term for it… wait, wait… it’s coming clearer… Ah yes! I think it’s called, uh, life.

Plan Accordingly

All I’m sayin’ is, hey, it’s a brand new year! It’s really all right to make your plans. After all, plans are good. Plans are necessary. Plans help keep things on track. In fact, it’s sorta like that image up there at the top of this post I titled “The Uncertain Future”. It’s a somewhat blurry photo of a corridor stretching out ahead. You can make out the walls, the floor, the line of light fixtures above, leading off into a possibly bright future. But at the same time – it ain’t all that clear, either.

Yeah, it’s sorta like that.

Hey, just remember this one thing: if you really want to be able to face the future in style, then Bubba, in all your planning, don’t forget to make allowances for life.

Yep; that’s the way to face the future, my friends. Be flexible when it comes to the unexpected. It’s the only way you’ll be able to roll with it and keep on keepin’ on, y’know? Just like that pageant. Did the unfortunate “elephant incident” stop the show? Not on your life! Folks just kept a careful eye on where they were steppin’ – and then kept right on walkin’.

Hey, I’ve known folks who seemed to know (or at least claimed to know) exactly where they were goin’ and what they’d be doin’ in the years ahead… and I gotta tell ya; folks like that irritate me to no end. Oh, it’s nothing personal, mind you. It’s just that after fifty-mumblemumble years, I’ve come to the sobering conclusion that there is absolutely nothing carved in stone about the future.

And there’s the lesson for the day year.

Happy New Year and a tip o’ the hat to ya!

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Wow, I bet that got your attention, didn’t it?

The Mrs. and I were checkin’ out a junk store antique shop a few weeks ago, and I happened to run across a pile of old magazines. Idly flipping through them, I was rather taken aback by the title of the main article on this cover of Look Magazine, dated February 2, 1960:

“SHOULD A GIRL BE FIRST IN SPACE?”

Well, I guess back then you could never accuse magazine editors of bein’, y’know, subtle. Surely, I thought to myself, these guys have learned something over the years.

Don’t Call Me Shirley!

A quick Wikipedia search (altogether now: what did we ever do before the internet came along?) revealed that lady on the cover is none other than Betty Skelton, one of the most amazing women of the day ever.

I had to chuckle a bit at that word, ‘girl’, though. I rather imagine if you called her that today, you’d better keep an eye over your shoulder because she’d likely climb into one of the 10 corvettes she used to set speed records with and lay a few track marks across your face. Just sayin’.

Although the whole article is definitely worth a read (it won’t take long, I promise), the opening summary quite succinctly says a lot: “Betty Skelton Frankman Erde (Note: link to Wikipedia article) (born June 28, 1926) is a retired land speed record car driver and acrobatic airplane pilot who set 17 aviation and automobile records, was known as “the First Lady of Firsts”, and helped create opportunities for women in aviation, auto racing, astronautics and advertising.”

Now there’s a summary for ya! In other words, she gave new meaning to the term “Fast Lady”! And, although she underwent the exact same training the Mercury astronauts went through (it was done at the request of Look Magazine specifically for this issue), she was never actually an astronaut. Which, if you think about it, is a sad commentary on the Way Things Were at the time.

On the other hand, it does bring up the subject of… barriers.

Barriers: Some Real and Some… Not So Much

Unfortunately, there were barriers to women back then that even one as talented and accomplished as Betty couldn’t break down. On the other hand (where did I get all these hands?), were I a bettin’ man, I’d bet you, oh, about a bazillion donuts she was a factor in the eventual acceptance of women in the Astronaut Corps (and a lot of other places, too).

Nevertheless, the wiki article did get me to thinkin’ (sound of grinding gears)…

When I was a kid, there were a lot of things I couldn’t do. You remember what it was like, don’cha? For instance (just to name three) I couldn’t drive a car (I was too young), I couldn’t understand physics (I hadn’t accumulated enough scientific knowledgeable) and, once I got a car, I couldn’t get a date (sadly, I had little or no social skills luck whatever with the fairer half of the population *sigh*).

See, some barriers are truly, well, for lack of a better term, real. Age, for example. In that case, there’s nothing you can do about that kind of barrier except wait for it to fall in its own good time. Hey, I had to grow up eventually, right? (Well, there were a few major boners I pulled when I was young that probably had my parents wonderin’ about that one. But I digress.)

On the other hand, many other kinds of barriers (such as that lack of knowledge I mentioned above) are more a product of how I thought of myself. Once again, though, how to overcome such a barrier was obvious: I needed to work harder and learn more! In other words, it was up to me.

Where’s That Barrier Now?

Over the course of my life many other barriers have fallen, too. For instance, I used to think I couldn’t write. Well, as I’ve discovered over the last few years, obviously that’s not a problem anymore. Although it didn’t happen overnight, with much time, effort, and the sweat of my brow, I now claim to be a writer because, well, I write, right?

But here’s the thing. If I were, for instance, to still insist I couldn’t write… Well, what would have happened is that particular barrier, which may have once been real, if you get my meanin’, is now simply imagined. See the difference? The fact that the barrier once actually existed always made a great excuse. Hey, I could always claim forces outside my control, y’know? (sound of millions of us shouting, “It’s not my fault!”) But now that it’s gone, well, why would I want to leave it hangin’, if you know what I mean?

The good news, though, is lots of other use-to-be-barriers are gone, too. The question, though, is, have I been paying attention? That leads me to another question: I wonder what other barriers aren’t there anymore?  Which of course leads up that all important final follow-up question: What barriers used to hold me back but now are gone and I now longer have excuse?

I wonder… what barriers used to hold you back – but aren’t there any more?

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Of Boats and Anchors… and Hope

One of the great things about the Easter season, particularly in the Christian world, is that it delivers a wonderful promise of hope. Hey, it’s the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, after his death on the cross over 2,000 years ago.

Jesus had just claimed victory over one of those things we all face sooner or later: death. Now that’s something worth celebrating, wouldn’t ya think?

But as I contemplated that blessed event this past week, I found my thoughts unexpectedly snagged on that little four-letter word, ‘hope’. I began to wonder: is my definition of ‘hope’ the same as yours?

Call me crazy, but I think it’s a very important question – critical, almost. After all, one of the main problems with any given communication is the words used may not necessarily mean the same to the speaker as to the hearer (or in this case, the writer to the reader).

So, let’s think about the word ‘hope’ for few minutes, and I’ll start with this simple question: What does the word ‘hope’ mean to you?

Common Definitions

I’ll tell ya; we’ve certainly heard it tossed around quite a bit these last few years, haven’t we? As a matter of fact, it became the mainstay of a certain politician’s political campaign as far back as three years ago. (Ironically enough though, these days it’s become the rallying cry of the opposition as well – but I digress.)

Just for fun, I checked several online dictionaries and came up with a few definitions (italics added by yours truly for emphasis):

• a specific instance of feeling hopeful; “it revived their hope of winning the pennant”
• the general feeling that some desire will be fulfilled; “in spite of his troubles he never gave up hope”
• promise: grounds for feeling hopeful about the future; “there is little or no promise that he will recover”
• expect and wish; “I trust you will behave better from now on”; “I hope she understands that she cannot expect a raise”
• be optimistic; be full of hope; have hopes; “I am still hoping that all will turn out well”

One of the things you’ll notice from all of these definitions (and there were many, many more, all of them pretty much in a similar vein) is the uncertainty in all of them. I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about it or not, but most of the time when folks use the word these days, hope is actually nothing more than a wish – albeit possibly a very powerful one.

Now I don’t mind tellin’ ya; I have a real problem with that. Why? Well, it has to do with this particular passage from the Bible – Hebrews, chapter 6 to be exact. Here’s a portion of two verses, 18 and 19:

“…we who have taken refuge would have strong encouragement to take hold of the hope set before us. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast…” (NASB) (emphasis mine)

(Note from the Proprietor: this section is part of a much longer discourse the writer of Hebrews gives regarding the promises of God; nevertheless, they illustrate the point I want to make.)

If you’ll think about it for a bit, you’ll notice that word ‘hope’, as used by the writer (most folks think it was the Apostle Paul, but we don’t know for sure), is described as “an anchor of the soul”, right? Now, I don’t know about you, but that certainly leads me to think that ‘hope’ is certainly a lot more than just a fervently-held wish, wouldn’t ya say?

In fact, when I think of the word hope, I’m always reminded of… this boat. Is that weird? (Don’t answer that!)

Allow me to explain.

A Quick Boating Lesson

Some years ago, during a moment of insanity (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it), Mrs. MZM and I bought a sailboat. Oh, she was a beaut, I’ll tell ya! She was a cute little 25-footer, complete with a trailer so we could take it to different lakes near where we lived at the time. (At least, that was the plan.)

Anyway, in order to learn proper seamanship Mrs. MZM and I decided to enroll in a local boating course (something I highly recommend for all boaters – if not for your own sake, then for the rest of us out there on the water with you).

We learned, among other things, the fundamentals of navigation (admittedly not too difficult when you’re on a small lake), and how to tie about a hundred different knots. (Do you know how to make a “bowline on a bight”? Hey, we do! Well, we did – I’m afraid it’s been a while). Finally, we learned about proper anchoring techniques.

OK, for that last one, although there’s all kinds of anchor types for different conditions, there’s an easy rule of thumb: generally speaking, you need an anchor rope that’s seven times longer than the depth of the water. Now, at first blush, that may sound like a lotta rope (small boats use rope; chains are reserved for the big boys) but trust me, it’s not.

See, it’s like this: once your anchor is firmly planted on the bottom of a lake, river or bathtub, that length of rope gives your anchorage a certain resiliency. That’s because as it stretches out to its full length, the line sags a bit between the boat and the ground. This lets the rope act exactly like a shock absorber, preventing the anchor from being pulled out every time your boat goes up and down on the waves.

Now here’s the important part: if the anchor rope is too long, your boat becomes unstable; if it’s too short it will probably pull the anchor from the bottom and cast you loose in a storm. Definitely not a good thing!

Anyway, when I think of ‘hope’, I always recall that lesson. See, proper anchoring technique boils down to this: to do its job properly, the rope needs to connect to the anchor in a way that provides enough flexibility to handle the stormy waves.

So how does that apply to ‘hope’, you ask? Hey, I’m glad you asked!

Four Key Elements

Recall with me those Bible verses I mentioned earlier, particularly the phrases I emphasized in bold: “take hold of that hope” and “an anchor of the soul”. Now let’s consider for a few minutes. Notice, if you will, four things: the phrase “take hold of”, and the words hope, anchor and soul. Also note the relationship between these four elements.

Now imagine if you will (warning: metaphor alert!), your soul is a boat, floating out there on the waters of life. Sometimes it’s smooth waters and clear sailing; sometimes it can get pretty stormy, right?

Now, when you’re caught out there on the water when things start to get a little rough, experts will tell you that if at all possible, the safest thing to do is throw out the anchor and ride it out. Tryin’ to get back to the dock in rough weather can lead to disastrous consequences. (I happen to know this firsthand, as a matter of fact – but that’s another story.)

However, if you don’t use the right length of rope to connect to (to “take hold of”) the anchor, well, you could just be wastin’ your time! As I said before: too short and it won’t grip the bottom; too long, and you still get tossed all over the place – and may even capsize!

I love the fact that hope is described as an anchor for the soul. It’s a  wonderful explanation of how the word ‘hope’ is actually much more than just a wish. In reality, ‘hope’ is something you can count on with complete assurance. What’s more; in order to be truly effective, we have to take hold of that hope, just as the rope connects the boat to the anchor.

What Does It All Mean?

So what does all that mean, anyway?

Well, take the followers of Jesus, for instance, specifically the Apostles (all except Judas, who at this point was “out of the picture”, if you get my meanin’) on the night of his arrest by the Romans. All during Jesus’ ministry on Earth, these guys walked with Him, listened to the stories and parables He spoke, and witnessed the miracles He performed. All told, they spent three years of their lives with Him.

Now, after all that time you’d think the hope they placed in Jesus would be pretty sure, wouldn’t you? So what happened? On that fateful night, instead of sticking around, they ran for their lives!

See, the problem wasn’t that the object of their hope that was flawed. After all, Jesus, the perfect Son of God, was (and still is, for that matter) the best of all possible anchors. No, the problem was they had failed to take hold of that hope. It was their connection to their anchor that was faulty.

Now, take a look at how the Apostles acted after Jesus’ resurrection. The Bible and history tell us every single one of them became men of such unshakable and formidable Faith that persecution, torture, and even death couldn’t sway them from their new life’s purpose: to tell the world what happened.

For them, their hope had indeed become “an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast”.

Hope, the Anchor of the Soul

Anyway, that’s why I have a problem with the way most folks use that word ‘hope’. As you can see, it’s not just a desire, a feeling, or a fervently-held wish. Nope; ‘hope’ is something solid and dependable; something you can count on.

That’s why the celebration of Easter offers so much hope – because Jesus is One you can truly count on!

Hey, a big ol’ tip o’ the hat to y’all, and have a great Easter, y’hear?

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The Promise and the Gift

There’s something really special about the promise of a gift, isn’t there?  Especially when it’s something you’ve really been looking forward to. You know what I mean, right? The comforting assurance, the delicious anticipation… and then finally getting that (fill in the blank here) you’ve been waiting for.

But… what if that “getting” part is delayed a bit? There’s nothing so agonizing, is there, as that wait for something you know you’re going to get – but haven’t yet.

All I Wanted For Christmas

Back when I was a little kid there was a certain Christmas gift (a race-car set) I’d had my eye on. You remember what that’s like, right? Starting somewhere around, oh, mid-July, I casually mentioned it to my parents to make sure they knew exactly what I wanted. At least, er, 294 times a week.

Plus, practically once a week (OK, twice… or maybe three or four times) I made sure Mom or Dad found the toy catalog lying around the house, “accidentally” fallen open to the exact page detailing the object of my desire (and conveniently circled, of course). I’m tellin’ ya, when it came to covering all the bases, I left no stone unturned! I even arranged for a friend to mention, in their presence, how they were sure they were getting’ something similar.

I’m tellin’ ya; I was devious smart, I was!

A Promise Was a Promise

Finally, the impromptu marketing campaign bore fruit: my Mom, after enduring probably the umpteenth millionth carefully-arranged “hint”, finally broke down and said two words I’d been waiting to hear: “We’ll see.” I was ecstatic!

Now, you may be thinkin’ to yourself, but that didn’t sound all that reassuring, am I right? But when it came to official pronouncements from my parents, I knew from experience that “We’ll see” was code for “You got it!” My spirits lifted to stratospheric heights.

For the rest of the year, I made sure nothing happened to mess up my chances. I scrupulously performed all my chores (that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it), ate all my vegetables (well, everything except the broccoli; no force on earth could make me do that), and made sure our cat and dog were clean, brushed, well-fed and had shiny teeth and fresh, minty breath. I’m tellin’ ya; I was the picture of a truly deserving fellow! And besides – a promise was a promise, right?

Was It Something I Did – or Didn’t Do?

The fateful Day crept closer and closer with all the swiftness of a runaway snail (you know how it always seems to take forever when you’re a kid), and once the Christmas tree was up I kept an eye out for one particular box. The days slipped by, but alas, it didn’t show.

Doubt crept in. Where was it? I wondered. Had my parents NOT bought it for me? Were they sold out? Or horror of horrors, had there been a strike at the plant and they no longer made ‘em? (It’s amazing what an overactive imagination can come up with, isn’t it?)

Christmas Eve arrived, and still – no box. I was crushed. And, although I did my best to hide it, that night as we opened our brightly-wrapped gifts, I have to admit to a sense of disappointment as my race-car set wasn’t there. I mean after all, they promised!

I know, I know; I should have been grateful for the gifts I did get. And don’t get me wrong; I was! After all, I had parents who loved me, actual gifts to call my own – I mean, by anyone’s measure I was truly rich! But still… as a kid, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something I’d done, or forgotten to do. I remember thinking, Maybe I hadn’t been good enough.

One Last Gift

Later, after all the gifts had been opened, I put on my best face and thanked everyone for the gifts I did get. I had just given my parents a hug and was heading for bed when my Dad suddenly sat up and pointed over to a corner of the room, an innocent expression on his face. “Hey, what’s that over there?”

I turned and looked and, to my astonishment, there was a box in the corner that hadn’t been there before! (I know now my Dad sneaked it in while I wasn’t looking, but at the time, it was as if it had appeared by magic.) My little eyes got about as big as saucers as I disbelievingly stumbled over and picked it up. Sure enough; it was just what I’d wanted – the race-car set! To say my little heart was thrilled is a complete understatement.

In moments I forgot all those nagging self-doubts as I gleefully hugged my Mom and Dad, thanking them profusely for the one thing I’d wanted – and in the process, finding out that the shape of the world was, indeed, right.

The Best Gift of All

You know, when I read the Christmas story in the Bible (it’s in the book of Luke, chapters 1 and 2 if you’d like to read it for yourself), I often wonder if that’s just a tiny little bit how the Jews must have felt. I mean, over the course of thousands of years, they clung to a promise: the promise of a Savior, the Messiah. The promise had been given by God himself, sometimes directly, and sometimes through His prophets. And after all, a promise from God, well, that’s something you can pretty much take to the bank, right?

But as year after year passed by, they found themselves ending every year with a sigh and the same sad thought: Is Messiah here yet? No? Well, maybe next year…

The thing is, it’s so easy to forget one tiny little detail: in God’s eyes, timing is everything. The prophets, even as they joyfully proclaimed God’s promise to His people, understood that certain events had to fall into place first. But still, what seemed like a long delay caused even the most faithful of God’s chosen to wonder if, maybe, just maybe – they hadn’t been faithful enough.

And then one day a simple priest named Zacharias was given a remarkable message while serving in the Temple – his aged wife was having a son! And not just any son – but the forerunner of the Messiah! Not long afterwards, the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and joyfully announced she would give birth to that very Messiah! At long last, the promise was being fulfilled: the promise and the Gift of God – the Messiah – was actually here!

Do you think his doubts, his fears and his worries about God’s promises quickly vanished -quickly replaced by complete and utter joy? I’d have to say… yes!

The Promise and the Gift

That all happened nearly 2,000 years ago, and the world has never been the same, y’know?

There’s still more promises waitin’, aren’t there? Especially my favorite one: His promise to return. Oh, I know; year after year passes, and I find myself saying, like the Jews did every year, “Maybe next year…” But I’m reminded of how Zacharias must have felt. His great hope, long delayed – well, it was discouraging, sure. But his hope wasn’t founded on just any promise – it was the promise of God Himself.

So next time you think about God’s promises, and how they may seem, at least to you, a bit delayed – try to imagine the joy that’s coming when His promise is finally fulfilled. I’ll tell ya; it’s gonna to be one spectacular party!

Have a wonderful and blessed Christmas, y’all!

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OK, I know you were expecting to see an announcement about this month’s What I Learned From…” groupwrite project here today. Actually, I did too. I mean, ever since starting these things back in May of ’07 (practically prehistoric times on the Internet!) we’ve had a new one every month like clockwork.

But… well, sometimes stuff just happens, y’know?

As a matter of fact, this week I’m preparing to go away for awhile. And not just away – far away. (And don’t let me hear the sound of cheering here! Just sayin’.)

Yep, as a matter of fact I’ll be completely out of touch. Well, at least out of Internet range, anyway. But don’t worry, I’m not on the lam or anything. I haven’t been abducted by government agents (not yet anyway) or aliens. And yes, I’ll be back soon. Try not to let your disappointment enthusiasm show too much.

Where am I going, you ask? Well, as you can see from this handy image I created, it’s to a small municipality called Pedra Branca, located in northeast Brazil. (The town name means, “white rock” in Portuguese.) As a matter of fact, it’s so far out-of-the-way, Wikipedia has virtually nothing on it. It’s located somewhere near these coordinates: 7º04’03.06″S and 40º30’00.49″W. Pop that in your magic teleportation machine and drop by for a visit, won’t you? Bring some ice.

Actually, I’ll be part of a team of 17 wonderful folks who are there to build a church for a small congregation. Which is kinda ironic, considering my, er, “carpentry skills”. (I put that in quote marks for a reason, if you get my meanin’. But don’t tell anyone, ‘K?) Nevertheless, it’s going to be a lot of fun working with ‘em.

What’s more, we’re going to build an entire church in just 6 days! (How hard could it be? After all, God created an entire cosmos in six days. We’re just constructing the one building.)

We’re leaving this Friday, November 6 (that’s in 2009, in case you read this post in the future – or the past, for that matter), and we’ll be back on Sunday, November 15 (although I probably won’t be, y’know, awake, until a few days later. Not to worry; I expect to take lots of photos and will no doubt have plenty of stories about the experience in the days to come. Lots of things to tell about and lessons learned, I’m sure.

Y’all play nice while I’m gone, ‘K?

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