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

Hidden Scars

“As Christ does for you, help carry each other’s burdens and troubles." ~ Galatians 6:2

Every year, when winter starts to drag and they wanted to more activity than simply walking to and from classes, Tim and some friends burned a little energy by cheering on their high school basketball team.  Screaming and cheering was good for a few calories they reasoned.

When the Warrior’s captain swished a 3-pointer to take an improbable lead, a younger girl in front of them jumped to her feet.  She threw her hands skyward.  Faded scars ran down the length of one arm; small cuts veered across the large vein on her hand.  She quickly jerked down her sleeve.

While self-injury can be a squeamish topic, Tim knew it was an important one.  He had no training, no experience, no morbid curiosity - just a caring heart and grace-fueled courage.  He waited until they were leaving the gym after a disappointing overtime loss and approached the girl.

"How long have you been cutting?" he asked quietly.

She gazed into his soul, liquid eyes seeking acceptance or at least some refuge of understanding.

She motioned toward a more secluded area and slowly raised her sleeve.  It revealed the map of emotional pain.  "I've never told anyone before," she said.  "I'm only talking to you because you didn't freak out.

Tim learned over burgers and cokes, that Ally was a ‘cutter.’  Publicly she had everything together.  But inwardly she was a boiling cauldron of stress, family dysfunction and unresolved agony that had erupted into self-mutilation.  He listened empathically without interrupting.

“At first it was just safety pins,” Ally revealed.  “But like other addictions, the cuts needed to be sharper and deeper to obtain the same level of relief.”

In the beginning, the external scars were a visual catharsis that represented the internal wounding her family had inflicted.  But now Ally suffered at the point of utter desperation.

Eventually the two became friends.  Tim helped Ally find a Christian counselor skilled at unlocking the root of her struggles and helping her deal with stress in a healthy way.

Ally’s not alone.  In fact, Teen Vogue recently called cutting “the new anorexia.”  Chances are, you personally know someone who self-injures.

Cutting is more than a stress relief, it is a cry for help.  But the question is - what are you going to do about it?  You don’t need formal training, just a caring ear.

This week, pay careful attention to the conversations and encounters you have with your friends.  If they seem to be disengaged or have drastic mood swings, it may indicate a problem.

It may be an opportunity to engage them in discussions about the love of Jesus and the healing that comes through the Gospel.  God ain’t afraid of the tough stuff.

Healing Lord, please ease my pain.  Take all my rejection, despair, loneliness, anger, frustration, and sorrow away.  Have Your blood cleanse my heart and help me see the love, joy, and acceptance that You have for me.  Amen

Thankful Despite ...

“Whatever happens, keep thanking God because of Jesus Christ." ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:18

It was never about the spiced maple turkey for her.  Nor did the sausage stuffing, carrots, mashed potatoes, or cranberries define the day.  She had to admit that Thanksgiving would never have been the same without Pecan Pie and Pumpkin Cake.

To her, being able to sit around a table lined with family - that was simply magic!

Thanksgiving Day began early, with Martha’s family gathered around the kitchen table for a special, once-a-year breakfast.  Between bites of fresh cinnamon rolls and sips of eggnog, they’d record the year's blessings on notebook paper: “landing a new job, making a new friend, getting a driver’s license, earning an ‘A’ in Algebra.”  No item was too small for the list.

Once they’d filled their pages, Martha would reach for the family's “Thanksgiving Journal” that contained lists from the past 37 years.  As they sifted through the pages, they’d recall key milestones: moving into a new house, starting their own business, entering college, marriages and grandchildren.

Tears and laughter flowed freely as they read about a 4-year-old's appreciation for a new bicycle, the swing set inherited from a family at church, their first dog and memories of loved ones who’d since passed away.

Shortly after breakfast, the turkey went in the oven, the card table transformed into a puzzle area and football entertained those inclined.  But the heart of their Thanksgiving happened despite the day’s chaos - when they added the year's memories to a growing collection of God's blessings.

Martha’s eyes fluttered as her dreamlike state shifted to reality.  She first became aware of the musty air and a mattress as lumpy as oatmeal.  She sat up and took in the homeless residents around her.  Waking up can be really harsh, especially if your dreams were better than reality.

Her life had changed dramatically when her husband passed away last spring.  Since then, she’d lost their home and business, a storage unit with a lifetime of assets, and been sexually violated.  Her string of back luck didn’t end there.

While sleeping in a friend’s car a few weeks back, Martha became very ill and was rushed to the hospital.  When she was well enough to be discharged, they’d accidently thrown away what few belongings remained.  She left the hospital in scrubs and a threadbare blanket.

But on this Thanksgiving Day Martha was fortunate enough to secure one of the 30 beds the Baldwin Shelter made available for the night.  And tomorrow, they’d share a holiday meal of processed turkey, candied yams and mashed potatoes.

The shelter was clean and warm; the staff kind and nonjudgmental.  And she had her FAITH.  If she still had the family’s Thanksgiving Journal, she’d add several pages of the things that she was thankful for right now despite the setbacks and disappointments.

Dear God, I’m thankful for all of it.  The highs, the lows. The blessings, the lessons. The setbacks and the comebacks.  The memories.  The love.  But most of all, Your grace!  Amen  ~ Martha

The Poor Philanthropist

“Help carry one another's burdens." ~ Galatians 6:2

Jalen’s family was as dysfunctional as it was large.  His mother Jolene’s hunger for procreation looted their already meagre budget.  With each new sibling the resource pie got cut a little thinner.  There was rarely enough food to provide even a hint of relief from starvation.

Today would be one of those rarities, however.  His grandparents invited the family and a few close friends to celebrate Jalen’s seventh birthday to a picnic in the park.  No presents – but plenty of fried chicken and all the fixin’s.

Just as the candles were about to be blown out, Jalen noticed a woman and a small boy rummaging through the park dumpster for food.  He begged his mother to invite them to the party.

There’s something about hunger that robs the spirit and the body.  In the throes of severe malnutrition all emotions that could thwart a person's ability to fight selfishness are switched off.  At least that's the way it was for Jalen’s mother - Jolene said “No!”

His head sagged.  He would have given away his last grain of rice and a hug to go with it.  They were poor but they never rummaged through a garbage container full of rodents, broken glass and dirty diapers for food.  But he wasn’t about to spoil one of the best days of his life by starting a nasty argument with his crack-addicted mother.

As Jalen continued watching them, his grandfather handed him an envelope.  It contained a crisp $50 bill and a handwritten note suggesting he spend it however he wanted.

The argument that he’d hoped to avoid erupted between his grandma and his mom.  Jolene objected to her son receiving such a large sum of money.  Mom wanted the money for the ‘family’ but grandma knew it would have gone to fuel her habit.

“Jalen can do ANYTHING he wants with the money,” grandma insisted, thus ending the debate.

So he did.

Jalen walked over to the dumpster and handed the entire amount to a woman he’d never met.  He explained with more maturity than most twenty-seven year olds, that it just wasn’t right for someone starve when hunger could be prevented.

His grandparents understood how powerful it was for a boy to give away the only money he’d ever seen.  Sadly, Jolene never did.

Jalen paid dearly for his actions that night by the wrath of an addict who hadn’t scored.  But to him, every bruise was worth it.

Jesus taught that in reality, we are all poor.  We’ve all felt “hungry,” that is, unfulfilled, uncertain about life’s purpose?  Who hasn’t been exhausted by the day’s work or by life itself?

The most fruitful works flow from a heart of inclusive love heightened by understanding one’s own poverty.

Here I am Lord, accept my poverty, hide my sin in your wounds, wash them away with Your blood.  Allow me to trust in Your goodness so that I too, may become more capable of mercy, patience, forgiveness and love.  Amen

Memories of War

“God is our refuge and strength; ever-present in troubled times." ~ Psalm 46:1

When I was about 10, my Dad and I sat with Grampa in his den.  I asked him about a small painting of a rocky snowcapped peak he’d made with strokes of blue, gray and white many years ago.  He looked at it for a moment, able to see his ghostly reflection in the sheen of glass that covered it.

The image awakened memories long forgotten; echoes of that hospital stay jarred his mind.  (I later learned that he’d painted it while recovering from his wounds in a hospital after the war).  Suddenly being forced to swim in the tide waters of the past, he spoke with the attitude of a soldier returning to the battlefield.

Tears filled his eyes as Grampa shared a brief snippet of his 3-year stretch in Europe during WWII.

"I remember this poor (American) Indian kid,” he began, “a private.  We were being shelled by artillery, but the krauts were shooting too high.  We heard the rounds pass just over our heads and hit the mountain somewhere behind us.  The whole earth shook.”

“The kid crouched beside me.  As the rounds went over, his face went white as a ghost.  When they exploded behind us, color returned to his cheeks.

I'll never forget that kid's face, dying and coming back to life, over and over on that mountain.”  I hated the senseless killing; the suffering and misery of war but I was proud that I’d done my duty and served my country."

I looked over at my Dad, who was leaning so far forward I thought he’d fall out of his chair.  His eyes were wide and, for a moment, he looked younger than me.  I didn't realize until that moment that he'd been waiting since 1945 for a single story about the war from his father.  Grampa never told another.

A WWII vet silent about his experiences.  What a loss.  They represent qualities that we admire so much in our citizens – duty and service.  Their experiences also reminds us that the military can be a great social leveler.  These two soldiers wouldn’t have thought twice about serving in the same unit despite disparities in culture, education and social status.  In the civilian world, their paths would likely never have crossed.  For a time, these were all Americans who invested their lives in service to our nation and secured our freedom.

Veterans Day is a time to reflect, but it’s also a time to help veterans find their voices, so we can collectively find ours as a nation.  We can't afford to hold our veterans at arm's length.  We need to learn from them and see them for who they are – an essential part of our nation and ourselves.

Lord, today we honor our veterans, worthy men and women who gave their best when called upon to serve our country.  Bless them for their unselfish service in the continual struggle to preserve our freedoms, our safety, and our country’s heritage.  Amen

Innocence Lost

"Nothing can separate us from God's love for us!”  ~ Romans 8:39

As if the water would cleanse her anguish, Danielle took the longest, hottest shower she’d ever taken.  Giving up her virginity had unleashed feelings more powerful than she could have possibly imagined.

He was her brother’s best friend – she had admired him.  He would make comments about how pretty, smart, and talented he thought she was.  Initially, Danielle had freaked . . . but she was also like a sponge, soaking in his compliments.  A good-looking, single guy was interested in her, even though he was in his mid-20’s and she was still a teen.

She and her girlfriends had joined True Love Waits and pledged sexual purity until marriage.  She broke her promise to God, to herself, and to her future husband.

He hadn't forced her to have sex with him.  Yet, she felt like a victim.  He had carefully planned his seduction using flattery and manipulation.  Danielle felt important and loved – but at what price?

She hadn’t worried about getting caught.  Mom was too busy to notice and Dad wasn't around.  Over time, her ambivalence became easier to live with . . . until this morning.

She missed her period and vomited before breakfast.  Panic stricken, Danielle wondered if she was pregnant.  She told Eric after work expecting him to be worried too.  She imagined that if a home pregnancy test was positive, they’d discuss how they’d break the news about wedding their plans.

His response shocked her.  "You're old enough for an abortion without parental consent," he snapped.  "I'll give you the cash, but you’ll have to get your own ride.”

His glare terrified her.   No concern for her whatsoever – only raw, selfish fear for his himself and his reputation.  How could she have been so gullible?

Luckily, she was not pregnant, but his reaction shattered her fantasy.  She’d convinced herself that she was important to him, but deep down, she knew the truth: Eric was using her!  Danielle had given him something that she could never get back.

She would eventually open up to a counselor, and pour out her deep shame, self-hatred and hostility.  Her Youth Pastor would also help her find spiritual peace.   She no longer blames God for what happened.  She knows He forgives and loves her.   God will use her painful experience to help others, she prays.

She no longer blames herself, either.   She can even share this story – as a warning to those who might be vulnerable to sexual predators.

She’ll wait for true love . . . someone to laugh, cry and make memories with.  A man of integrity (Ephesians 4:28); someone whose behavior will be caring in all circumstances (1 John 3:18); and a man love and listen to events of her day with sensitivity, interest, and concern (James 1:19).

“Jesus, as a teenager You walked in our shoes.  You faced the same temptations.   You understand!  Help me say ‘NO’ to inappropriate temptations.  And forgive me when I mess up, in Your name. Amen.”