Stories for My Back Pocket

“Fight the good fight, finish the race, keep the faith." ~ 2 Timothy 4:7

It was an economic downturn that threw Mateo and his family off track.  Earlier that spring and typically a busy time for construction work, he sat home for weeks without any jobs lined up.  That had never happened in all the years he’d been an independent contractor.  Hard times were coming.

He tried desperately to find steady job with a construction company but by then, no one was hiring. They no longer had the extra income needed to support his wife’s fledgling bookkeeping business.  That went under too.

He filed for bankruptcy, his house was foreclosed on and his car repossessed.  Unemployed for the first time in his life, 42 year-old Mateo had lost everything.

He was broken; shattered really.  His heart beat without purpose; his mind desperate for some reason to live.  Any notion of hope quickly vanished like a desert mirage.

Eventually he landed a job as a night custodian at the local college.  The pay cut bled clear to the proverbial bone and the work triggered little satisfaction.  But the college offered free tuition.  So while his college classmates were in the library studying together at night, Mateo was buffing floors and picking up their trash.

He did schoolwork early in the mornings and after class in the afternoons before he started his 3 to 11 shift.  He rarely saw his wife, who’d gone back to school as well to get a teaching degree.  She worked days, he worked nights.  And when he was home he was studying.

Initially, Mateo took classes just to occupy his mind and keep despair from coagulating in his veins.  After completing the basic coursework, he set his sights on an undergraduate degree.  The thought energized him.  Others noticed a buoyancy in his step that hadn’t been there before.

Nearly a decade after his life unraveled, Mateo graduated with a B.S. degree in Mechanical Engineering.  As he walked (more like strutted) across the stage to accept his diploma, the crowd exploded in applause for him.

It had taken more than a decade to get his degree.  It took him less than a month to land a dream job (while continuing his custodial chores, of course).  He never lost hope.

Friends, as we ponder our New Year’s Resolution, let’s be honest.  Few of us really want things to be completely different.  We just want life to get better, or easier.  We can handle a tune-up or face-lift, but drastic change?  Medication, yes; surgery, no.

So my resolution for 2018 is to tuck stories like this one into my back pocket, and when I’m upset or feeling down on my luck, I resolve to pull these out and re-read them for inspiration.  Then I’ll look up … and trust the One who holds my future.

Friends - may this new year be a time of deep spiritual growth, a time of welcoming the Lord’s graces and gifts, a time for forgiving freely and unconditionally, a time for growing.  Best Wishes for 2018!

Yuletide Memories

“Glory to God in the highest, and peace to all people." ~ Luke 2:4

Christmas – a time of faith, hope, love and great memories.  As I sat quietly listening to our Pastor’s sermon, I closed my eyes and felt my eyes tear up allowing a flood of childhood, Christmas memories to wash over me.  Crying is sometimes how I understand myself best.

We were certainly not a wealthy family.  Yet, we were so rich in all life’s important things.

I remembered getting up on a bitingly cold, December morning and pulling on my oversized winter coat before heading outside with my Dad and brother to chop down a Christmas tree.  We usually picked a tree whose limbs could barely support the ornaments and lights when we decorated it.

Mom was in charge of setting up the ceramic nativity scene she’d hand crafted, with such respect and tenderness.  She’d always kiss the baby Jesus before setting it aside until Christmas Eve.

Mom sang along with the Christmas carols on the radio while she decorated the house.  I remember the peaceful look on her face whenever she sang, "Silent Night."

Christmas Eve dinner featured pastrami on rye with oyster (or potato) soup and freshly baked bread.  Dad placed a note for Santa on our front door so that he wouldn’t skip our empty house while we were at midnight Mass.

The service was a collection of singing, readings (in Latin), and a dual message: to praise God for sending His Son to earth, and to emphasize our responsibility to love one another.  I tried staying awake for the whole mass, but often fell asleep on Mom’s lap.

I remembered the eager anticipation of waiting to open my presents on Christmas morning.  They were few in number and never very expensive, but they always brought great joy to my heart.  I played with them for months and sometimes years to come.

Most of all, though, I remembered the unwavering love in that house.  It made every day feel like Christmas.  It was there in our hugs and smiles, laughter and tears, arguments and agreements, triumphs and tragedies.  Even when we moved from Webster Street, love followed us.  It gave me a hint of the love that God has for us all.  With it we felt like the wealthiest family on earth.

Christmas season is a special time of year.  It’s a time to connect with each member of your family, and create memories and traditions that your family and kids will remember when they’re older. Creating memories as a family also gives your children a secure foundation and understanding of their identity in the family and the importance of Christ’s birth.

May your life be full of loving memories at this Christmas and always.  And may you create new ones every single day.  Have a Blessed Christmas.

“This Christmas may you have … hot drinks by the fire, laughter to cheer you, and those you love near you, and all that your heart may desire.”  Amen  ~ Old Irish Prayer

Emmanuel

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” ~ Luke 19:10

Sarah was nearing the end of her 6^th and final year of teaching.  She’d realized earlier this year that she’d been unhappy with work and cranky towards her pupils.

Students cringed as she graded their work because Sarah could no longer hide the disappointment in her face.  All too often she took derogatory jabs at failing or disruptive kids rather than giving them a new chance every day.  Her tenure was turning her into a dreadful person; her students deserved better.

Even as she pondered her final Christmas in the classroom, she wasn’t sure if teaching had finally worn her down to a bitter shell of the cheerful newbie she’d been once, or if she was just ready to move on.  Even yesterday’s assignment for them to identify the greatest Christmas present ever given, seemed to validate her cynicism.

This morning Sarah gazed at the class as if their faces had become an expanse of nothingness.  Most would describe gifts that were exorbitantly expensive.  Few would suggest gifts that required any deep thought.

She was nearly correct.

Ryan suggested the Black Diamond iPhone covered in gems and an incredible black diamond valued at over $15,300,000.  Sandra offered something less luxurious but equally excessive – the world’s most exclusive dog collar featuring 1,600 diamonds including a 7-carat centerpiece for $3.2 million.

Braden proposed a New Year’s party for 300 friends on the rooftop of a hotel overlooking Time Square at the eye-dropping cost of $1.6 million.  And Itsuki’s idea for Dolce sunglasses at $383,609 would certainly blow a hole in most holiday shopping budgets.

The presentations continued monotonously – expensive cars, extreme vacations, massive big-screen TVs; an alligator backpack ($47,000) and gold shoelaces ($19,000).

But when it came to Mandy’s turn, the shy, thoughtful girl spoke without hesitation.  “The Wise Men brought the unusual gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to Jesus.  But their gifts were not gifts to the Child.  The first Christmas gift was the gift of the child.”

“Christmas in its purest state,” she continued, “is a promise that no earthly thing can satisfy.  The true meaning of Christmas is that Jesus Christ, God himself, came to earth to be born into the human race.  In fact, ‘Emmanuel’ means “God is with us!”

It’s better than anything Nieman Marcus could offer.  It is the only thing that truly keeps on giving: the gift of eternal life.

The room went quiet.  Heads nodded in embarrassed agreement.

Sarah’s eyes lit up; a million new ideas were streaming through her brain.  She’d felt something new, something amazing, something long ago forgotten – inspiration, rejuvenation, pure joy.  She’d received her Christmas gift early and would have to rethink her retirement from teaching.

“Dear God, grant me an abundance of Your wisdom.  Prepare my heart to encourage these young people and give me grace as I help those who aren’t thriving, courage to say what needs to be said, and patience when I’m intolerant.” ~ Sarah

Let It Snow

“God speaks to us through His beautiful creations." ~ John 1:3

Silvery flakes drifted softly, glittering in the bright light of a golden sunrise.   Winter trees shivered in the gentle wind; naked branches adorned with an icy frosting.  For Brianna (5), it marked something very special – the first ‘snow day’.

All bundled up, Mom and daughter loaded their snow tubes, a few extra mittens, and a thermos of hot chocolate into the back seat of the car and headed to the “Best park on the planet to slide!"

Mom grew up in a small town just a few miles from where their family lives now.  Going back there to ride down the hill together had always been her dream.   As a little girl playing with her friends she often declared "Someday I'll bring my kids here!”

The park was covered in a thick ivory blanket.  Statutes peeked from under their new white caps.  Footsteps and paw prints crisscrossed each other around the labyrinth of paths.  The snow had transformed the landscape making it a magical place full of wonder and uncharted mysteries.

For Mom, today seemed extra special.  Brianna was finally old enough to take a few trips down the hill on her own.  Not that this was a dangerous hill, but for the first time Mom was starting to let go.  From the first day we begin to teach our children to be independent, we begin to experience that special pain - the one that tugs at your heart every time they take another step in the direction of adulthood.

As they came to a rolling stop, the two tumbled into the powder laughing.  The cobalt sky above reminded them of God’s creative talents.  Next to where they’d stopped were a few small evergreens laden with snow.

"Look Bri, see how the snow glistens on those branches?” Mom motioned.  “After God sends us snow to play in, He sends sunlight to dance on the snowflakes.  As they melt, the snow turns into tiny water drops.  As they hang there, light shines through them and you can see little rainbows.  It's all a part of His magnificent expression," Mom explained.

"This is way better than Disney World!" Brianna said, "and we don't have to stand in line to see it."

Off in the distance they heard other children playing.  Yet, in that precious moment that this young Mother will one-day recall when she’s feeling abandoned and alone, God put on a light show and life danced across their souls.

Have you taken a minute to stop and watch a snowflake float to the ground?  Or seen a rainbow in a droplet of God's tears?   If you haven't, my good friend, you're missing the greatest show on earth … and it’s all free for an investment of your time.

Almighty Father, You’ve beckoned us to marvel at majestic mountains, enjoy vibrant sunsets, smell fragrant roses, and calm ourselves beside still waters. Thank You for doing all the hard work so we could enjoy these simple pleasures.  Amen

An Unlikely Pardon

“Forgive us our sins, and help us forgive those who’ve sinned against us." ~ Matthew 6:12

Her son's killer stood on a chair blindfolded, his hands tied behind his back and a hangman’s noose around his neck.  Hundreds crowded outside the prison in a northern Iranian town to watch the mother, Alinejad, exercise her right to kick the chair out from under him to let him hang.

Her only son Abdollah (18) had been stabbed and killed in a street brawl.  He’d known his killer, Balal.  The two had played soccer together.  Years earlier, Alinejad’s youngest son Amir was killed by a motorcycle that Balal was driving.

Under Sharia Law’s concept of an "an eye for an eye," families of murder victims are often given the final word over whether convicted killers live or die – a legal concept that has drawn sharp criticism by international rights groups.  Iran executes more of its own people than any other country except China.

They also have the option to show mercy as an act of charity and a chance to atone for one's sins.  But after dreaming of revenge for 7 long years – she wanted Balal dead.

Seconds away from what would have been his final breath, a weeping Balal begged for his life one last time.  "Please forgive me," he shouted, "if only for my mom and dad."

An angry Alinejad climbed up on the chair and shouted back.  "Did you have mercy on us?  Did you show mercy to my son?" she demanded.  "You have taken happiness away from us.  Why should I have mercy toward you?"  Then she slapped him hard across the face.

Balal's fate then took an unexpected turn.

She forgave the convicted killer.  Immediately she “felt the rage in my heart vanish and the blood begin flowing through my body again.”  Then bursting into tears, she removed the noose from Balal’s neck.  By lawful declaration, he’d been pardoned from the death penalty but would still serve the remainder of his prison sentence.

Some in the crowd applauded.  All appeared shocked.

Balal's own mother reached across the fence separating the crowd from the execution site, and embraced Alinejad before reaching to kiss her feet – a sign of respect and gratitude.

But Alinejad refused and instead gestured for the woman to stand up.  “After all, she was a mother just like me," she recalled.

Weeks later, Alinejad has found a peace lost since her son's death.  "Losing two children is like losing parts of your body.  All these years, I felt like my body was dead.  Now I feel very calm.  I'm at peace; vengeance has left my heart."

Alinejad's decision was widely publicized by the semi-official news agency, hoping to encourage more victims' families to consider choosing mercy over retribution.

Almighty Father, I believe that your son, Jesus Christ died for my sins, was resurrected from the dead, is alive, and hears my prayer. Please become the Lord of my life, to rule and reign in my heart from this day forward.  Amen

Gentle Giant

“Your own soul is nourished when you radiate kindness." ~ Proverbs 11:17

Henry Ellis was a man of routine.

Each morning, Ellis left the ‘Eddy’ – an inexpensive flop house for the poor with nowhere else to live, and walked six blocks to the Waveland Cafe for breakfast.  He perched himself on his favorite counter stool every day.  The diner’s employees always knew his order - an egg sandwich with a half order of french-fries and 3 Cokes.

To them, he was part of the family.  They knew him by name but mostly referred to him as “Gentle Giant.”  He’d usually make a bit of a mess so they knew to provide extra napkins.  As one of their most beloved customers, they enjoyed his daily visits.  And he loved the camaraderie.

When the old man would describe his life, locals were instantly transported to another place and time.  His voice was slow and he stumbled on his words.  Sometimes he’d be overwhelmed by emotions and would pause to collect himself, recalling memories that’d been buried for decades.

At times he’d appeared excited to weave a tale.  Other times he seemed to be honoring a solemn duty to remember the past.  After speaking for a time he’d often nod off into a little catnap, seemingly exhausted from the energy required recalling bygone days.

"Our paths crossed almost every day,” remarked Carole his favorite waitress.  "He had a great heart.  If there was ever a break in his routine, I’d be sure to ask the rascal what he’d gotten into.  He’d pause, and give some random reason, but mostly it was my way of letting him know that he had a following of people who cared about him."

But his routine was tragically broken when the deadliest Des Moines fire in a decade took the 71-year-old's life.  His absence was instantly noticed.  The Waveland Café staff and other regulars mourned his death, but nothing could fill the seat that remained empty.

But they found a sweet way to remember their “Gentle Giant.”  They set up a makeshift memorial in his honor, leaving a cup of coffee, sugar and extra napkins for him as if they were still serving him.  They also left a note, his photo, and a flower on the counter across from Henry’s stool.  Regulars donated money to cover the funeral expenses of the other fire victims too.

“Although he’d never walk through that door again,” Carole added tearfully, “We wanted everyone to know how much he meant to us and that he’d surely be missed.”

Such a simple gesture … but a powerful message.

Like the ripples radiating from a pebble dropped in a pond, kindness pulses out after each of our actions and has a contagious effect on those around us.  Make somebody smile today, it’s so worth the effort.

Dear God, if I can’t be brilliant, let me be kind.  If I can’t change the world, let me inspire just one other to do so.  If I can’t give away riches, let me be loving.  Amen

Second Chance

"The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love." ~ Psalm 86:15

Karl massaged his throbbing temples, glancing at yet another flash card.  As the figures blurred together, he pressed his forehead onto the card hoping that might stamp it to his memory.  As a 6th grader, he had to find a way to pass the math midterm.

Stifling a yawn, Karl rubbed bleary eyes.  Despite his best effort, this was just not working.  He pushed the chair back and decided to make a little ‘cheat sheet.'

For the week leading up to the exam, Karl studied really hard.  At one point, he almost thought he didn’t need it.  But on the day of the test, he put it in his pocket - just in case.

Faced with a sheet of math problems, Karl started freaking out. In less than an hour his fate would be sealed.  He choked down rising bile and placed the cheat sheet under his desk.

Then he closed his eyes and said the little prayer below.  Almost immediately, Karl felt a calming presence wash over him.  His focus became razor sharp.  Attacking the problems with vengeance, he didn’t even need the silly cheat sheet.

Karl proudly placed his fished work on the teacher’s desk.  In his exuberance however, he completely forgot the paper he’d left on the floor; one that had not gone unnoticed by a glaring teacher.  Busted – for not even using the dumb thing.

Karl felt so embarrassed.  “This couldn’t be happening to me!”  He waited outside the Principal’s office until his teacher arrived after class.  When he saw the disappointment on her face, he wanted to cry.  Only in his silent prayers could he speak to God and beg for mercy.

Karl tried to explain how the cheat sheet had given him the confidence he needed to complete the exam without using it.  Even he thought his account was hard to believe.

But his teacher did believe in second chances.

“For your punishment,” she began, “you’ll create a completely different exam.  It must be at least 100 good, thoughtful questions long.  I’ll choose 25 of them for your make-up exam (imagine the lesson here).  A perfect score on your test will gain no better than a “B.”

“And don’t even ask what will happen if this ever happens again,” the principal added.

Karl learned two lessons that day … the hard way.  His teacher helped him and so did the principal.  No one had ever done that for him besides his parents.  And secondly, intentions are as sinful to God as completing the act itself.  But one of the amazing facets of God's character is His incredible patience with us.

“Dear God, I know there’s probably no prayer that can change a "D" to an "A" but I still need Your help as I take this exam.  Let there be a peace that flows over me when I walk out of the classroom after knowing that I did my best to prepare. Thanks”  ~ Karl